Touch the Flame
by California Kat
Summary: This is the sequel to Comfortably Numb. Eric and Sookie may have decided to fight against Appius's influence in Eric's life, but that doesn't mean smooth sailing for them. New challenges and tragedies will befall them. Will they find a way to stay together through them? Or will Appius drive them apart—or worse?
1. Chapter 1: Appointment

**Touch the Flame**

**Summary: **This is the sequel to _Comfortably Numb_. Eric and Sookie may have decided to fight against Appius's influence in Eric's life, but that doesn't mean smooth sailing for them. New challenges and tragedies will befall them. Will they find a way to stay together through them? Or will Appius drive them apart—or worse?

**MUST READ: **This story will make no sense at all without _Comfortably Numb_. If you've not read it, I hope that you will.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing related to _True Blood_ or the _Southern Vampire Mysteries_ novels. Those items provide the inspiration for the story; however, I do not own or profit from the fanfiction I produce using that inspiration (except in the form of your kind comments and reviews).

**Story Title: **The title of this sequel is from lyrics of the U2 song "Where the Streets Have No Name." (I own no rights to this song.)

I want to run

I want to hide

I want to tear down the walls

That hold me inside

I want to reach out

And **touch the flame**

Where the streets have no name

(_from_ "Where the Streets Have No Name")

**NOTE:** The "flame" will be _very_ hot in this story and the angst will be high. But there will be joy too—and a whole lot of love. Remember, that if you _need_ to know the endgame in order to go through this journey with me (I know that I like to read the last page of a book first), then you can PM me. I have no problem letting you know the destination if it will help you to come with me.

* * *

**Chapter 01: Appointment **

Bobby woke up to the feeling of soft lips on his cock, and he sure as hell didn't mind that.

"Mmmm," he sounded roughly. "For a self-proclaimed hater of dicks, you do that so well."

Pam looked up from her task. "Well your cock is one of the few I've liked," she grinned as she moved her hand up and down his member.

"So good," he panted, holding her hair in a pony tail as she took him into her mouth again. He knew enough about Pam to know that if he thrust upward, she would stop, so he kept his body still.

"What has you so wound up at," he glanced at the clock, "5:00 in the morning?"

"Mmmm," she hummed around his cock. "A good dream."

"Oh God," he murmured as she took the hand that had been playing with his balls and pressed a finger—hard—against his perineum.

"You like a little kink, don't you?" Pam purred from around his dick.

"I like _your_ kink," he reminded as she moved her finger to stimulate his rear entrance.

Forty minutes later, they were both sated and showered, though they'd settled back into bed.

"You're the only one I've ever let do that," Bobby commented as Pam leaned over him to grab one of his cigarettes from the nook behind the bed. She didn't smoke often, but she did enjoy a post coital cigarette every now and then.

"I've figured that out," she winked, "though you've seemed to enjoy it every time I've done it."

"I gotta tell you—the first time was a real eye opener," he chuckled, remembering the first time Pam had decided to make it her personal mission to find his prostate gland and then stimulate it until he came only from that. Bobby had never been attracted to men, but in that moment, he had understood the attraction of anal sex. Of course, Pam's thin finger was as far as he was willing to go in that arena.

She leaned against the headboard and lit up her cigarette.

Bobby grabbed one and did the same. He chuckled when Pam glared at him. "Hey—you know I never smoke in your house unless you're smoking."

Pam—in all other situations—hated cigarettes and hated Bobby smoking them, especially around her. In fact, she required that he brush his teeth and gargle mouthwash for a full minute if he wanted to kiss her at all after he'd been smoking.

"I don't like you smoking in my house," she said, taking a big puff of her own cigarette before grabbing a beautiful ashtray and setting it down in the nook of the headboard—where they could both reach it.

"You're the most infuriating woman I know," Bobby said, though he was still chuckling. "Who else would take a cigarette from a smoker, light up after sex with him, and then deny him the same privilege?"

Pam shrugged. "I don't care."

Bobby smiled slyly. "You know—you only want one of those when I _really_ get you off."

Pam rolled her eyes but didn't contradict him. In fact, Bobby had been able to tell that he'd gotten her off a couple of times. After she'd brought him to a mind-numbing orgasm, he'd returned the favor, and Pam wasn't shy about telling him exactly where she wanted him to be and what she wanted him to do during oral sex. If she weren't so goddamned sexy, he might have been annoyed by it.

"Like I said, I woke up from a hot dream," she smirked, trying to deflate his ego—no doubt.

"Must have been a good one. Was I in it?"

"No," Pam answered, her smirk growing. "Wrong gender."

Bobby chuckled. "Let me get this straight. You had a dream in which you were having sex with a woman and then you woke up and felt the need to give me a blow job?"

Pam shrugged. "You were the only thing available."

Bobby snorted. "I'll try not to take offense."

"You shouldn't—not really," Pam said her face falling a bit as she took another drag of her cigarette.

"What's wrong?" Bobby asked perceptively.

"Nothing," she tried.

"Bullshit," Bobby returned.

"Fine," Pam glared at him. "It's just that I've been dreaming of this person a lot."

Bobby's lips curved into a half-smile/half-smirk. "Pammy, are _you_ in love?"

"God no!" Pam protested quickly, her voice a bit squeaky.

Bobby's smile widened. "I think the lady doth protest too much."

Pam took a drag of her cigarette and blew the smoke out slowly.

Bobby's playful demeanor, as well as his impulse to relentlessly tease his "friend with benefits," faltered when he saw the serious look on Pam's face. "Tell me about her," he requested sincerely.

Pam sighed. "It's Sookie's Brooklyn roommate."

"Amelia?" Bobby asked. "I thought the two of you were just having fun."

"Yeah," Pam said. "We decided to keep things casual and to continue seeing others. She's a lot more 'bi' than I am."

Bobby took a drag of his cigarette. "And that scares you?" he asked perceptively.

Pam sighed. "You know I'm a lesbian."

He looked at her skeptically.

"I make an exception with you. But I don't have an interest in trying other men anymore. However, I've been with a lot of so-called _bi_-sexual women who don't know what they want. They like to 'play' with other women, but only until they find their Prince Charming, but that usually doesn't bother me because I'm just playing with them too."

"But you really like Amelia, and you're afraid she's just dallying with the idea of being a lesbian, so you're afraid to commit."

"You're an asshole sometimes," Pam said, reaching over to put out her finished cigarette and take another.

Bobby shook his head a little. In Pam-speak, those words meant that he'd hit the nail on the head with his assessment of what was going on.

"The worst part," Pam said, "is that I woke up from my dream feeling a little guilty that I'd slept with you."

"So you decided to alleviate that guilt by blowing me?" Bobby asked with a chuckle. "And then by fucking me again?"

She glared at him. "I'm trying to be serious here."

"Sorry," Bobby said as he too lit another cigarette. He got another glare for that, but just rolled his eyes and motioned to the lit cigarette in her fingers.

"Anyway—yeah—I figured that getting off would stop those pangs of guilt, especially since you're _very_ good at distracting me."

Bobby grinned. "Well—you've trained me well."

"Damned right," Pam snarked as she raised a perfect eyebrow. In fact, she had taught Bobby many, many things about pleasing a woman with oral sex.

"It didn't work—did it?"

"What?" Pam asked evasively.

"The guilt came back after the orgasm—I mean orgasm_s_."

"Yeah," she admitted.

"You should go for it then," Bobby advised. "From what I've seen, Amelia's nice—a little too 'new aged' for my taste, but nice. And she's my cousin Claudine's best friend. And when I asked about Amelia, Claudine had nice things to say."

"Why would you ask about Amelia? You're not interested in her—are you?" Pam asked a little jealously.

"Down girl," Bobby chuckled. "No. I checked into her a little because of her connection to Sookie. I wanted to try to gauge her trustworthiness in keeping Eric and Sookie's relationship a secret."

Pam bit her lip a little. "So you investigated her?"

"Just enough," Bobby answered. "And I asked Claudine about her, but that's all. She seems like a good person, Pam, and I don't think she'd yank your chain if she wasn't into you. So if you want something more exclusive, ask for it," he counseled, bringing his hand to her cheek in a tender motion. "I'd miss the hell out of our little rendezvous, but I know I'm not the one for you—at least not in the long run."

"Yeah," she said bringing her own hand up to stroke his cheek, "but sometimes I wish you were, Bobby."

Not wanting things to become too serious, he lightened the mood. "But I'm not willing to get a sex-change operation for you, and since I wasn't made with a vagina, you find me lacking."

"A nice pair of tits would help too," she said, her usual sarcasm rising into her voice.

"Those too." He leaned over and kissed her lips softly. "Try with Amelia, Pam. Just tell her what you want, and see if she wants it too."

"And if she doesn't?" Pam asked a bit insecurely.

"Then you'll have to decide whether to keep seeing her—because if you really like her, but she sees it as casual, she'll hurt you without meaning to. And I wouldn't want to see that."

Bobby kissed Pam one more time and put out his cigarette before getting out of bed.

"Hey—where are you going?" Pam asked.

Bobby glanced at the clock. "I have an appointment at 8:00," he said as he put on his pants. He'd decided it was better not to tell Pam about the listening device Nora had planted. He'd leave it up to Eric to decide who to tell about this latest piece of his father's duplicity.

Bobby sighed. If he thought that Eric would forgive him for doing it, Bobby would arrange for Appius to have an "accident." God knows—Bobby had met enough nefarious people in his line of work to set something up. However, Bobby couldn't do that to his friend or to the woman in bed in front of him—at least, not unless they asked.

Moreover, he still felt that death would be too damned good for Appius Northman. After all, he'd been the cause of decades of pain for his "brother," and—make no mistake—Bobby truly thought of Eric Northman as his brother, more than ever.

And as the older "brother," Bobby felt damned protective of Eric. Since Sookie had been in his life, Eric had been opening himself up more than he ever had before; he was no longer holding back the part of himself that was most important.

It had almost broken Bobby's heart to see Eric sunken onto his knees and looking into his half-empty closet as if his world had been taken from him. In truth, that had been why Bobby had needed to seek out Pam. He'd needed a little comforting of his own after seeing Eric so distraught.

Bobby intuited that it wasn't even the bug being planted that had ultimately broken Eric down like that. If it were just Eric living in the house—if it had been the Eric of a year ago—he would have likely "accepted" his father's surveillance of his office without putting up a fight. After all, unlike Bobby—and _certainly_ unlike Appius—Eric was truly an honorable man. Thus, he had very little to hide.

Of course, before Sookie, Eric had allowed himself nothing that would have needed to be hidden.

Bobby sighed. He could tell that what had truly crushed Eric was the thought of losing Sookie—the thought that his relationship with her _would_ have been discovered by that listening device. And then Appius would have known what would hurt Eric the most. And Sookie's being hurt had obviously caused great fear in his friend.

Bobby shook his head a little. He couldn't help but to share Eric's concern, and he cringed when he thought about Appius learning of Sookie and Eric's relationship, but what truly worried him was that Appius would find out just how much Sookie meant to Eric. Appius would do anything he could to hurt Sookie if he knew the depth of Eric's feelings for her. And Sookie had plenty of things in her past that could hurt her, even though she wasn't to blame for any of them.

"What's got you so frowny over there?" Pam asked as she got out of bed and pulled on her robe.

"Just thinking about my appointment."

"What kind of appointment do you have at 8:00 on a Sunday morning?" she asked, her hands on her hips.

"Proctologist," he grinned.

"Didn't you already have your proctologist appointment this morning?" she deadpanned.

He chuckled as he moved toward her, and then he dipped her into a toe-curling kiss.

"What the fuck was that for?" Pam asked breathlessly when he lifted her up.

"Just in case things work out with Amelia, I wanted one last kiss," he grinned rakishly.

Pam shook her head a little, but then looked concerned. "Bobby, if things do work out, I don't want to lose you as my," she paused, "friend. You get me—probably better than anyone else does or could," she admitted begrudgingly.

He pulled her into a warm hug. "You and I will always be friends, Pammy. It's only the 'with benefits' part that's variable."

For once, as Pam tightened her arms around him, she didn't even mind that Bobby had called her "Pammy."

* * *

Bobby walked from the elevator straight into the parking garage. Both Eric and Pam had three parking spaces that came with their homes, and since they never used them all, Bobby always parked in the garage when he came over.

He was a little surprised to find someone waiting for him next to his car.

"Henry," Bobby said as he approached the car and saw Henry Jiles there. He'd developed a friendship with the head of security over the last couple of months. Henry had a wry wit and a subtle quirkiness that appealed to Bobby. Plus, the ex-Navy SEAL's work—and his fast thinking the night before—had made Bobby admire the chief of security for Eric's building even more. Right then, however, Henry's face told him that he'd be saying something Bobby didn't want to hear.

"Bobby," Henry returned, "are you heading to Brooklyn?"

Bobby nodded. "Yeah. I was planning to go home, change, and then head over to the Brownstone."

"I'm riding over with you," Henry said, his tone brooking no argument.

"When I saw you, I kind of figured you might," Bobby smirked. He pushed the button to unlock his car and wasn't surprised when Henry beat him inside.

"Where do you live?" Henry asked.

"A loft—on the Lowest East. What's all this about?" Bobby asked. "I can't imagine that you're just trying to save on gas money."

Henry nodded. "I'll tell you on the way. Blake and I aren't sure, but Eric and Sookie might have a bigger problem than we thought."

* * *

**A/N: Well—that's the beginning! I know that you probably wanna see what Eric and Sookie are doing right now. We left them last in post coital bliss after having decided to fight against Appius. I decided to give them a couple hours of sleep. ;) They will need it.**

**As I said before, I'll be rotating this story and my other new one **_**Uninvited**_**. (I'll be working on each a week at a time.) Thanks to everyone who has followed me to that story too! I don't say it enough, but I think my readers are the best in the world. And you come from all over the world too! Congrats to my Chinese fans, by the way, about Li Na winning the Aussie Open. I love her (she's so funny). I was pulling for her when I watched the match live. (Yep—3:30 my time!) Sorry to my Aussie fans about your players getting knocked out early. I always pull for Leyton. And—yep—I'm a huge Tennis fans. (I'm still upset that my Djoker is out, though I'm pulling for Stanislas in the final.) **

**Anyway, I'll stop my little tangent.**

**Thanks for reading and following me to the sequel!**

**I'll get you at least one more chapter before I switch back to **_**Uninvited**_** next week.**

**XOXO,**

**Kat**

**Remember that their are pictures of the cast, etc. (made by the lovely Sephrenia) available over on my WordPress site. (californiakat1564 . wordpress . com). **


	2. Chapter 2: Caught

**Chapter 02: Caught**

"Set the table?" Sookie asked as she leaned back into Eric's body even as she flipped the pancakes.

"For five?" Eric asked.

"Six. Just in case Amelia gets up."

"I'm up," Amelia said as she groggily dragged into the room. "But I don't have to stay if you guys need privacy once Bobby, Henry, and Blake get here."

Sookie looked at Eric.

"No—stay. It's okay. Maybe you'll have some ideas." He looked over at Sookie. "And there's some good news too—so stay for that."

"Sure," Amelia said, quickly grabbing a huge coffee cup and filling it. She took a long drink. "Oh, God. That's good." Immediately, she looked a little more awake. "And I'm always happy to hear good news." Suddenly excited, she looked at Sookie. "You're not pregnant—are you?"

Sookie almost spit out the drink of coffee she'd just taken.

"No," she blushed and then looked at Eric.

"Then what is it?" Amelia asked.

"We'll tell you when the others get here," Eric and Sookie both answered at the same time before grinning widely at each other.

"Geez," Amelia said with mock disgust. "You two are so damned cute sometimes that it turns my stomach."

"That's the coffee hitting the tequila," Sookie said cheekily, even as she continued smiling at Eric.

"Can you give me a hint?" Amelia pouted before taking another long drink of coffee.

Amelia's question reminded both Eric and Sookie of the conversation they'd had right before they finally fell asleep for what turned out to be a two-hour nap since Sookie had set the alarm for 7:00 a.m. After they'd decided that they were "it" for each other and that Eric was going to break his contract with Appius on his thirty-fifth birthday, they'd talked about having children and the insecurities each of them had because they didn't have good examples to follow. But they agreed that they both wanted to be parents anyway; actually, they agreed that they wanted to become parents _together_.

However, they'd decided to wait until Eric was truly free from Appius's influence, which would be several years from then, but they were not in a hurry anyway. Still, they'd both gone to sleep with smiles on their faces as they'd thought about having a family together.

During his two hours of sleep, Eric had dreamed of being on Lake Vänern with that family—_his_ family. He and Sookie were on a boat and watching over a small blond child, who was splashing merrily in the water. It had been the most vivid "happy" dream he'd ever experienced. He'd had recurring nightmares when he was a kid, and those had also been intense. But the vibrant dream he'd had that morning was also the dream that he'd decided to pursue for his real life too, and because of that, he felt like a weight had been taken from him.

Sookie's phone rang, and she reached for it on the counter.

"Bobby," she said, handing it to Eric. "Talk to him while I make more pancakes."

Eric nodded and answered the phone.

"Hey, you on your way?" he asked lightheartedly.

As he listened to what Bobby had to say, Eric's carefree expression burned from his face.

"Eric?" Sookie asked, immediately sensing and seeing his mood change.

After listening for a few more moments, Eric hung up.

His expression was now a mixture of anger and fear as he looked at Sookie.

"Eric?" she asked again.

"They're here," he said stiffly. He looked at Amelia. "Would you mind unlocking your back door? They'll be coming in that way in about one minute."

Amelia looked a little confused, but went through the kitchen to the utility room. The back door was located there and led out to a large courtyard shared by the residents of the buildings on that block. Since she was on the first floor, Amelia had a small patio right outside of her home too.

Sookie immediately turned off the gas burners and went to Eric's side, but before she could ask him what had happened, he took her into his arms and buried his face into her hair.

"One day, you'll realize that being with me is more trouble than it's worth," he whispered.

"You're worth any trouble, Eric," Sookie assured, even as she wrapped her arms around him more tightly.

A few seconds later, Amelia came into the kitchen with Bobby, Blake, and Henry. All three men looked grim.

"Good morning," Henry said with the air of formality Sookie associated with his being an ex-Marine.

"Sookie. Eric," Blake greeted with a little nod. He took a deep breath and spoke to them like the detective he was. "I need to know a couple of things before we talk this all through."

"What things?" Sookie asked, even as Eric nodded next to her.

"Have any of you been outside today?" Blake asked, including Amelia in the question too.

"I brought in the paper an hour ago," Eric said.

"From the front stoop?"

Eric nodded.

"Was Sookie with you when you did?" Blake questioned.

"No," Eric answered. "Sookie was in the bathroom then."

"And you? Have you been out of the house at all?" Blake asked Amelia.

"I just got up, so no," she answered, clearly mystified by the questioning.

"Bobby?" Sookie asked, looking for answers.

"We'll explain in a minute," Bobby soothed. "Right now, just answer Blake's questions."

Sookie bit her lip nervously, but nodded.

"Have any of you spent time in the front living room this morning?" Blake asked. "The drapes are open in there."

"Well," Sookie responded, "you have to walk through there from my room to get to the kitchen, so yeah. I've walked through there a couple of times now."

"With Eric?" Blake asked.

"No," she answered. "He was already in the kitchen making coffee when I came in here, and he's been reading the paper."

"And you?" Blake asked Amelia.

"My room is down that hall." Amelia pointed away from the front room. "And I came straight to the kitchen."

"You?" he asked Eric.

"I went from the hall leading to Sookie's bedroom into the living room this morning, and then I went to the front door, and then I came in here. Sookie's right. I haven't left this room since then."

Henry and Bobby looked at Blake.

"That should be okay," Blake said.

"What should be okay?" Sookie asked, her frustration level obviously rising.

"Just give Blake one more minute, Sookie," Henry requested, speaking in a brotherly tone that was obviously meant to comfort her.

"What about last night?" Blake asked, looking from Eric to Sookie. "Did you two talk in the living room or—uh—do anything else there?"

"No," Eric answered. "We went straight back to Sookie's room when I got here."

"Your room is in the back? Facing the courtyard?" Blake asked.

Sookie nodded.

"And the curtains are closed in your room?" he followed up.

"Yes," she answered. "And there are mini-blinds too."

"Good," Blake said. "And you Amelia? Were you in the living room at all after Eric and Sookie went to her bedroom?"

Amelia shook her head. "No. I mean yes. I went to my bedroom when we heard Eric's taxi pull up. But I came out about an hour later to grab a glass of water. I went to the front door to double check that all the locks were set, and then I turned on the alarm. I stepped into the living room to shut off the light Sookie and I'd had on."

"And your bedroom faces the front of the house—correct?"

Amelia nodded.

"And your curtains are closed? Have they been closed all night and this morning?"

Amelia nodded again. "Yeah, and there's a shade in there too."

Blake nodded. "Could you go close the drapes in the living room?"

Though still obviously confused, Amelia moved to do as directed.

"Wait," Blake said halting her with his tone. "The only street-facing windows are in your bedroom, the living room, and the dining room—correct?" he asked pointing to the dining room, which they could see from where they were all standing in the kitchen?" The heavy drapes in that rarely-used room were already pulled tightly shut.

"There's an office on the other side of the living room, but I always keep those blinds closed when I'm not in there," Amelia responded.

Blake looked back at Sookie, who seemed to be bursting at the seams with tension. "Just one more thing, Sookie," Blake promised. "Who answered the door for Eric last night?"

"I did," she said, her voice quivering a little.

"And did you walk outside at all when you did that?" he asked.

"Yes," she responded.

"Did you kiss him in the doorway—or even hug him?"

Sookie closed her eyes to remember. "Yes. We held each other for a little while—maybe twenty seconds or so? Then, I remember taking his hand and pulling him inside. We went straight to the bedroom."

"You were holding hands as you went?" Blake asked.

"Yeah," Eric answered.

Blake nodded and moved toward the front of the house as Amelia came back to the kitchen. About thirty seconds later, he walked back in.

"I think it's okay," Blake said.

Bobby nodded and looked at Amelia. "Is there a room in the back of the house that can fit us all so that we can sit down and talk?"

"Yeah—a sitting room. I'll go close the drapes," she said, catching on—at least a little bit—to what was happening.

Blake nodded at Amelia. "Thanks. He's watching from the front and will probably stay there, but it's good to be cautious."

Forgetting completely about breakfast, Sookie grasped Eric's hand tightly. "Who's the _he_?"

"Let's go sit," Eric said, suddenly feeling very tired and heavy with worries again.

Sookie nodded and led the group to the sitting room where Amelia had already closed the vertical blinds and was now pulling the drapes. She flipped on the light in the corner of the room before taking a seat on the large couch. Henry and Blake also took places on the couch as Sookie and Eric sat on the loveseat. Bobby stayed standing, even though there was a chair left over.

It was actually Henry who started speaking. "Eric, after I put you in the taxi last night, I went right back up to your house since Blake had gotten back with the screening equipment. It wasn't until Blake and I came back down about an hour later that I talked to Rasul." Henry looked at Eric. "He told us that he'd seen a big guy hanging around out front around the time you and I came down. Rasul said that he didn't see the guy's face clearly, but something had stood out about him, and it'd been bugging him while I was up at your house. So Rasul did a patrol around the building, but there was nothing suspicious. Then, he did a runback of the video footage near the front entrance and got a shot of the guy, but it wasn't clear. When he showed me the image after I returned downstairs, I recognized he guy's tattoo."

"Sigebert," Eric sighed. "Or Wybert."

Blake held out his cell phone for Eric and Sookie to see. On it was the image of a large man. His face was turned, but a tattoo of a dragon could be seen clearly on his arm.

"But that's not at Eric's. That's from right outside of this building!" Sookie exclaimed nervously.

"Yeah," Blake confirmed. "I took it about five minutes before Bobby and Henry got here this morning." He sighed. "Once Henry recognized the man who'd been in front of Eric's building as one of the men whom Eric's father had sent to snoop around in the past, I decided to come here to make sure he'd not followed you. After finding the listening device, we thought that it would be better to be safe than sorry."

"We should have called you," Henry said contritely, "but we knew that Eric would have already arrived by then, so any potential damage would have already been done. And we honestly didn't think that 'the Bert' could have made it to a vehicle in time to tail you last night."

Eric sighed. "This is all my fault. I should have seen him. I always see them when they're following!" He raked the hand that wasn't holding Sookie's through his hair. "I've _always_ been careful, but last night, I was," he paused, "upset."

Henry nodded. "There is no reason to suspect that he had been following you before last night. After Blake left, Tray and I went back over the surveillance footage around the building. We used the Berts' drivers' license photos—which Blake got for us—to run the facial recognition program that Thalia installed last year. Hell! We even ran the tattoo through the system. We can safely say that neither Sigebert nor Wybert has been picked up on any of our cameras during the last month."

"But he followed me here last night," Eric sighed.

"I didn't think so at first," Blake admitted. "Given the fact that we saw the man on the security footage right around the time you were put into the cab, it would have been very difficult for him to get to a vehicle and follow you. We'd figured that you'd gotten away clear. But, as I said, I came out here to sniff around anyway—just to be absolutely sure. After I got here, I maneuvered around outside for a while, but I didn't see anyone suspicious. Just to be safe, though, I took up a position in the brownstone across the street. I figured that if I didn't see 'the Bert' by this morning, he'd not managed to track Eric here."

"But he _was_ there," Sookie whimpered.

Blake nodded. "This morning—right before I left my position to come over here—he parked a vehicle across the street—in the perfect location to monitor the front entrance of this building. He got out of his car and approached the house—probably trying to see if he could see in through the front windows, but from my own observations, I already knew that only the living room curtains were open. And those weren't even opened fully. I don't know if 'the Bert' has been here all night, but we have to assume that he has been here for at least part of it. He moved his car to its current position right after the street-sweepers went through."

Bobby sighed. "He may not even have followed you at all, Eric. He could have gotten the information about your destination from the cabby that drove you here, but we can't be sure."

Sookie sniffled a little as Eric pulled her closer to him.

"As soon as I spotted 'the Bert,'" Blake continued, "I called Henry and told him and Bobby to approach from where he couldn't see them. He'd gone back to his car by then."

Eric sighed. "So—best case scenario—he got here just a little while ago and has seen nothing."

Blake nodded. "Yes. And—worst case scenario—he managed to follow the cab you were in last night." He took a breath. "He would have needed to keep at a fair distance, especially when you entered this neighborhood," he added. "It's quiet, and you would have likely spotted him otherwise." He exchanged a look with Henry.

"Unless you were distracted," Henry said somberly.

"I was," Eric admitted in a low tone.

Blake picked up, "Well, even if he was close, he would have been unable to see much of Sookie—if he saw her at all—given the ivy around the front entrance and the fact that the light isn't especially bright."

Bobby ran his hand through his hair. "But we are going to be cautious and work off of the assumption that he _did_ catch a glimpse of her."

"Shit," Sookie said, pretty much summing up what they all felt.

"Listen, Sook, from what you've said, even if he drove by last night at the exact moment when he could have seen you hugging and then taking Eric's hand, those are innocent enough gestures," Bobby comforted.

"But they'll know who lives here," Sookie said.

"No," Amelia chimed in, "they won't know who you are. Your name isn't on the lease, and I didn't exactly file the proper paperwork when you moved in here." She looked at Blake a little guiltily. "So—uh—they'll think Eric was here spending the night with _me_, and that's what you _want_ them to think—right?" she finished, looking at Bobby.

"Yes," Bobby answered. "A liaison with you is something that Appius wouldn't mind."

"Because of who my family is!" Amelia said with realization. She looked at Sookie. "This is really good! I mean—it sucks, but it's good. The worst that could happen is that they think you're my friend—someone who happened to be over when Eric was here. Hell! They might even figure that we had a threesome, but they won't know who you are, and even if this 'Bert' asshole had been standing right at the window of the living room, the sheer curtains were drawn the whole time, and his view would have been obstructed."

"Yes," Blake said. "I agree. As I said, I was watching from the Brownstone across the street for much of the night, and the first time I saw 'the Bert' get close to the building was this morning. Maybe he peered in last night before I arrived, but—from what you've said—he wouldn't have seen much."

"So Appius will think Eric's having an affair with Amelia?" Sookie asked.

"If we are lucky—yes," Bobby said.

"But what if he saw Sookie greeting me?" Eric asked with concern. "Though they are of similar heights and builds, Sookie is blonde, while Amelia is brunette."

"You just hugged right?" Bobby asked to clarify.

Eric ran his hand through his hair. "Yes—but I don't want him asking questions."

"Hopefully, 'the Bert' didn't see that there was a blonde here at all," Bobby said.

"But what if he did?" Eric pushed, his voice laced with anxiety.

"No problem!" Amelia said excitedly. "I've been thinking about going blonde for a while; in fact, I bought one of those temporary color kits to see what it would look like before I did it for real. And I don't mind pretending Eric and I have a _thing_—not as long as we can tell Pam the truth."

"Thanks, Amelia," Eric said sincerely, "but I can't ask you to get involved in my troubles."

"You didn't ask," she said simply. "And it's really not that big of a deal." She giggled. "It's not like Sookie's going to kick my ass when she finds out about our 'clandestine affair,'" she said dramatically.

Sookie got up and went over to hug Amelia. "I've never had a friend like you," she whispered.

Amelia looked at her and smiled. "Look around the room," she said in a low voice. "I think you have at least three others, and then there's Pam and Thalia too. Any one of us would walk through fire for you, Sookie. And we'd walk through fire for you too," she added, looking at Eric.

"She's right," Bobby said. "And it's high time you started believing that," he said, looking right at Eric.

Eric closed his eyes tightly, taking in Bobby's words but not knowing exactly how to process them yet. "What about the listening device in our home?" Eric asked as Sookie returned to his side. "Or is it device_s_?"

"There's just the one in the office," Blake confirmed. "I swept the whole house for other signals—the terrace, too."

"And then Thalia did it a second time early this morning," Henry said, "after our military contact came through with the more sophisticated equipment Bobby told you about. Thalia has also swept the elevator, lobby, and parking lot—for both passive and active surveillance devices."

"Did you take the bug out?" Eric asked.

"No," Bobby said cautiously. "We needed to talk to you first."

"Why the fuck not? What's there to talk about?" Eric asked angrily.

"The second it's taken out, Appius will know you found it, and then he'll redouble his efforts to know what you're doing."

Eric closed his eyes again and retook Sookie's hand. "But I won't live there without Sookie. And what if the bug picks up our talking—even from another room?"

"That won't happen," Henry said. "One of Thalia's jobs in the Navy was to plant or block listening devices a whole hell of a lot more sophisticated than the one Appius is using. And when I set up the system at Carmichael Plaza, I used Thalia—as well as some of my contacts in Naval Intelligence—to make sure that it was state-of-the-art. Thalia's already been able to find the signal of Appius's device, _and_ she's already hacked into it."

"Thalia is a computer hacker?" Sookie asked with surprise.

Henry chuckled. "My little sis was one of the best computer hackers in the Navy," he offered proudly. "Right now, Appius is listening to the sounds coming from one of the bedrooms on the fourth floor of the tower."

"The fourth floor?" Sookie asked.

"Yeah," Henry smiled. "It's the one empty unit in the tower. We surveil all empty units so that if a realtor comes in with a client, we can make sure everything stays on the up-and-up. Thalia has basically replaced the audio feed from your place with the audio feed from the fourth floor—so that Appius will still hear the sounds of the building, like the air conditioning unit."

"What if someone comes to look at the unit?" Sookie asked.

"Don't worry," Henry responded. "The owners put such a high price on it that no one has looked in months, and—even if they did—an appointment must be made, so Thalia can easily move the signal back to Eric's office during those times."

"So Appius will only hear _when_ and _what_ we want him to hear?" Eric asked for clarification.

"Yep," Bobby said.

"That'll be handy," Sookie said, trying to sound as positive as she could in light of the fact that Appius was trying to spy on Eric.

"And there's no way that a mistake could happen with what Thalia's got set up?" Eric asked.

"No way," Henry said. "But Thalia says she wants a bonus," he added with a smirk.

Eric chuckled. "She'll get one."

"I'll tell her."

"So," Eric sighed. "How do we get out of here? And how do we get Sigebert off of my ass? Sookie and I have a date at the MET."

Bobby chuckled. "Well—if Amelia really is willing to dye her hair, I say that needs to happen first. How long does that take to do?"

"I could have it done in an hour," she said, "even less if wet hair is okay for what you have in mind."

"Perfect," Bobby responded, understanding even better now why Pam would be attracted to Amelia.

"I'll get started," the soon-to-be-blonde said, standing up. "Why don't you all go have breakfast and then bring me up to speed on the plan once I have the dye on?"

Sookie stood up and gave Amelia another hug before turning to the others. "You guys want coffee?"

"Love some," Henry, Blake, and Bobby answered in concert as Sookie began to lead them to the kitchen.

"Bobby?" Eric said, signaling for his friend to stay behind for a minute. "What do you really think?" he asked when the others were out of earshot.

"I think we got lucky. We'll be able to contain this _and_ to use it to our benefit. If I'm guessing right, then Appius probably had you followed because he was suspicious when Isabel left early last night. And by coming here, you inadvertently gave him a reason why you'd want to get rid of Isabel so quickly. Appius will think that you are having an affair with Amelia on the side, and we can use the listening device to solidify that notion. _And_ we'll 'show' him Amelia today and have you two kiss or something to give him a nice show when you say goodbye to her."

Eric immediately tensed. "I won't do anything that could be considered cheating on Sookie." He closed his eyes for a moment. "I'm going to marry her, Bobby. I'm going to break the contract on my thirty-fifth birthday and marry her."

Bobby's mouth turned upward into a grin. "Good! That contract is idiotic anyway!"

"Idiotic?" Eric asked with surprise. "_You_ helped me draw it up."

"Yeah—well—I always hated the idea of you still under your father's thumb in _any_ way, but being CEO of Northman Publishing was what you wanted at the time." He sighed. "I won't deny the fact that I had been hoping that you would find something you wanted more—before you got married to someone you didn't really love. But—you have to be sure. Between the CEO, the NP stock, and the trust fund, you are giving up a lot."

"Sookie's worth everything I'm giving up—and more," Eric said passionately. "But that's not what I'm worried about. I'm worried about the others that this will affect."

"I know. But you can't take the world onto your shoulders, Eric." Bobby sighed.

Eric sighed as well. "I used to think that I _deserved_ the whole world on my shoulders."

The two men were silent for a moment.

"I'm glad you've found her," Bobby finally said.

"Me too, Bobby, but Sookie and I need to bide our time. The sooner Appius finds out about her, the worse it will be for us and for my team at NP. I want to give them time to build safety nets for themselves. And—as you know—it's just not feasible for me to break the contract before my thirty-fifth birthday."

Bobby nodded. "Okay. And to that end, by the end of the day—if we play our cards right—we'll have let Appius hear all he needs to in order to leave you alone for a long time."

Eric nodded. "I figure I'll be at Northman Publishing for three and a half more years. And then I want to sell the NP stock that I put in Mormor's name and set up a trust for her. Initially, I thought that I'd be able to eventually buy your NP stock, but that won't be possible now. Maybe we could get Appius to buy yours at the same time he seizes mine?"

"How will he be able to have more stock and still keep the company public?" Bobby asked.

"A loophole. He would likely put the stock in Appius's Jr.'s name and then put it into a trust he'd control. I don't really care how he does it though. I want no remaining ties to him once I leave the company."

Bobby shrugged. "I wouldn't sell my stock to Appius—only you. I'll hold onto mine. You might change your mind and want it someday. And Appius has no idea I have the stock anyway."

Eric nodded. "I just wanted to give you the heads up and tell you that I won't be needing it now, so you can sell it."

"Okay," Bobby responded. "But what if Appius has something up his sleeve? Something more that he will do to you when you break the contract?"

"That's where I need your help," Eric said at a low volume. "The contract is clear about what I will lose if I break it—and I'm prepared for that—but I'm afraid he'll try to hurt Sookie. So I need information on him which will prevent that from happening."

"You're willing to blackmail him?" Bobby asked with a smile.

"Now I am. For Sookie. And," he paused, "for me too—_finally_."

Bobby smiled wider—almost wickedly. "I have some things already, some proof of his homosexuality. The scare of the scandal might be enough to force him to back off of you and Sookie once you breach the contract, but I'll try to find more."

"Bobby, I want to keep all this as far away from Sookie as possible."

"She'd want to stand with you," Bobby said cautiously.

"I know, and everything I tell her _will_ be the truth, but I don't want to have to tell her anything that might make her feel guilt. And I certainly don't want her incriminated in any blackmail that I must do later! And," he paused, "I also don't want her to know how far I'll go to hurt Appius if he tries to hurt us."

Bobby nodded. "I understand."

* * *

**A/N: Okay—so here's the second chapter. Many thanks to those of you who have already "favorited" and "alerted" this story! I know that "all human" stuff isn't as popular, so—in a lot of ways—I appreciate it even more that you have followed me to this tale! Thanks also for the comments about the last chapter! They are greatly appreciated and treasured.**

**I am due to turn back to **_**Uninvited**_** on Wednesday, so I'm not sure I'll have another chapter of this ready this week, but we'll see. The next section is a bit rough though—so it might need a bit more tweaking than I can do in a couple of days, but, again, we'll see. Regardless, the following Wednesday, I'll be back to this story. **

**Thanks again!**

**Kat**

**Remember to visit my blog if you wanna see pics. (californiakat1564 . wordpress . com)**


	3. Chapter 3: The Cat and the Serpent

**Chapter 03: The Cat and the Serpent **

The first thing that Eric did when he got home was to check to make sure that everything of Sookie's was back in place as he _needed_ it to be. He breathed a sigh of relief to find that it was.

Courtesy of Bobby's forethought, a new phone had been delivered to the building that morning, and the SID card from Eric's old phone had been moved to it. He answered as it rang.

"Will you be ready in fifteen minutes?" Henry asked.

"Yes," Eric answered and then hung up.

He went to the kitchen—as far away from the bug as he could get—and called Octavia Fant, who was the woman from whom Sookie and he were getting their kitten. Sookie had heard about Octavia through Amelia. Octavia was, according to Amelia, an "eccentric," and for Amelia to say something like that about someone _else_ was pretty significant.

Octavia ran a very small and specialized animal rescue and adoption service. In particular, she would rescue pregnant female cats that were due to be euthanized by the animal shelter in her area. She would care for the cats and their kittens until the babies were weaned. Then she would find homes for all of them. Her service had become quite popular, so Sookie and Eric had been on a waitlist until their kitten had been born seven weeks before. Sookie and he had been the last in line to get a kitten from the litter, so they'd not picked their pet. All they knew was that the kitten was a boy and that he was yellow and white. Like expectant parents, they were anxious to meet him.

Eric asked Octavia if there was any way that he and Sookie could pick up the kitten that afternoon, despite the fact that they'd been told to come the next Sunday. He explained to the woman that he had a good reason and left it at that. The elder woman agreed since she was planning on completing the kittens' weaning process that same day.

Their kitten—Sookie's long-awaited birthday gift—would be coming home!

Eric sighed. He and Sookie had had a long discussion about where to put the litter box and had finally decided on the bathroom in the guest bedroom. Sookie had set things up the previous week when he'd had to spend long hours at the office with the Chinese delegation. He took a minute to ready the kitten's food and water dishes in the kitchen before making sure that the litter box was filled.

While he was in the guest bathroom, he got a text from Henry, telling him that the office bug was now officially "listening." Eric took a deep breath and went into his office. He made a point to shuffle a few papers before picking up the house phone. He dialed Liang's number first; it didn't take Eric long to find out that the Chinese delegation had everything they required. That done, he dialed Amelia even as he pulled the script Bobby had come up with from his pocket.

It had taken all the acting skills that Eric possessed to pretend to be affectionate with a woman other than Sookie when he left Amelia's brownstone that morning—though he'd flat out refused the suggestion that they kiss. It wasn't that he didn't like Amelia; it just seemed wrong to even touch a woman other than Sookie now. Even when Isabel had taken his hand the night before, he'd had to refrain from his instinct to pull away from his friend.

But he'd done what he needed to do. He'd given Amelia a long hug outside of her home and he'd even nuzzled her neck a little—just as they'd planned. But that was all he'd been able to do before his kissed her cheek and left in a cab. His only consolation was that he was positive that Sigebert had been snapping pictures of it all.

"You miss me already?" Amelia answered the phone in a sultry tone.

"You know I do," Eric replied huskily, trying to read his line like he meant it. All of his years of hiding his true feelings aided him greatly. "Why don't you come over tonight?" he asked. "That new blond hair of yours makes me want to do all kinds of things to you—_naughty_ things."

"Don't you think you were naughty enough last night?" she asked coyly. "I mean—I can't believe you went to a party with Isabel and then came over and fucked me—twice."

Eric chuckled. "I didn't _go_ to a party; it was here. And don't tell me you're jealous of Isabel."

"No," Amelia laughed.

"So—tonight?" Eric asked.

"Yes—definitely."

"How about 9:00?"

"I can't wait," she said hanging up.

Eric ended his call, left the office, and then texted Henry. Within a minute, Henry was calling him.

"The bug's signal is being intercepted again. You can come down the stairs of the fire escape. Blake's waiting in the garage with his car. 'The Bert' is across the street monitoring the front entrance and the garage exit. So just duck on your way out."

"Thanks Henry," Eric said.

"Don't mention it. Sookie's waiting."

* * *

Eric and Sookie had chosen the number of the gallery they would visit the previous morning—before she'd left for Amelia's house in Brooklyn. But now that seemed like a _very_ long time ago.

It was before Appius had Nora put a bug into Eric's office.

It was before Appius had Eric followed.

It was before Eric and Amelia had been forced to practically make out on Amelia's front stoop!

Sookie smiled softly. It was also before Eric told her that he was willing to change his whole life for her.

It was before he made clear that she was his priority.

It was before they talked about staying together for the rest of their lives.

It was before he asked her to marry him.

It was before they decided they wanted to have children together.

It was before she knew that her life with Eric would continue.

It was before she knew that love and happiness would continue to fill her existence.

_Yes_. So much had happened since they'd picked that day's gallery.

"You look beautiful," Eric said from behind her.

She turned around to face him.

"Hey you," she said, smiling up at him as he bent down to kiss her softly on the lips.

"What have you seen so far?" he asked.

"I just got here. I was waiting for you," she responded as she looked around Gallery 135, which was full of facsimiles of paintings from ancient Egypt. There were also two large sculptures, both of which depicted the goddess Sakhmet, who had the head of a lioness.

Eric and Sookie explored at a leisurely pace. Most Sundays, they walked apart, meandering in and out of each other's path, but that Sunday, they kept their hands tightly linked and walked through the gallery together.

"I have a surprise for later," Eric said with a boyish grin after they were done "discovering" the gallery.

"Oh?" she asked, enjoying his easy grin and the light in his eyes. "You wanna tell me over lunch?"

He nodded and led them out of the gallery. As always, they visited the place where they'd first kissed, Gallery 823, before leaving to grab their lunch.

"So what's the surprise?" Sookie asked as they made their way to the Great Lawn with their food.

"I called Octavia, and the kitten's ready to come home!"

Sookie squealed a little.

"I thought you'd be excited," Eric smiled.

Sookie rose up to her tiptoes and kissed him. "I thought we had to wait until next week."

"I told Octavia that we had a good reason for wanting the kitten early, and she said that he's pretty much weaned and ready for action."

"How will we get him home? We don't have our carrier with us."

Eric smiled again. "I brought it with me to the museum. Ben's holding it."

Sookie smiled widely. "I can't believe we're gonna have a kitten today!"

"Yeah," Eric said. "I know it sounds a little cheesy, but after yesterday, I just didn't want to wait for any part of our life to begin."

"That _is_ cheesy, Mr. Northman, but I like it," she said leaning in to embrace him.

* * *

Eric reveled in his Sundays with Sookie at the MET and in Central Park. They seemed sacred to him—a kind of church that fed his soul more than any religion he'd ever known. And—ironically—it was through them that he had begun to believe that God might really be out there, watching over him after such a long absence from his life.

As they always did on Sundays, Eric and Sookie had spent most of the morning looking through that day's gallery. Then they'd had lunch in the park. That day—it had been hotdogs from their favorite vendor.

Eric's favorite part of Sundays—by far—had become their time in the park, especially after they ate. Sookie had taken to bringing a thin blanket in her backpack, and they would lie on the ground if the weather permitted. Sookie would always prop herself up on her side so that she could write, and Eric would lie curled up so that his head was resting on the comfortable valley created above her hips. He especially enjoyed how she would unconsciously play with his hair as she gathered her thoughts. And he would often drift away into a nap.

After Sookie was done with her notes, they would return to the MET, chat with Ben and his crew for a while, and then go back to that day's gallery, where Sookie and he would talk about what they liked and disliked as they walked around the room again. Then—as always—Sookie would take her single picture to capture the piece that most struck her.

About two months before, Eric had finally told Sookie about the betting pool among Ben's crew, but instead of feeling self-conscious, Sookie had just laughed about it, and then—in typical Sookie fashion—she'd begun to bring a fresh-baked bag of cookies to the previous week's winner, thereby endearing herself to Ben's crew even more.

Yes. Eric loved their Sunday routine very much, but on that particular Sunday, they were both anxious to leave the museum a little early because they wanted to go get the newest member of their family.

Still, Sookie went through her process—though in a somewhat abbreviated form—recording the parts of the interesting gallery that she wanted to remember.

"There are a lot of cats in here," Eric observed as they walked around the gallery one final time.

Sookie giggled. "I know, after you told me we were getting the kitten today, I noticed that there were tons of cats in here—including these!" She pointed to the two large sculptures of Sakhmet.

Eric chuckled. "We could name the kitten Sakhmet."

"But he's a boy, and Sakhmet is a goddess's name," Sookie reminded.

"True," Eric observed. "Then—we should name him after your favorite today," he said with a mischievous grin.

"And you think you know my favorite today?" she asked with a challenging lilt to her voice.

"Well—I know _I_ have a favorite, and our favorites usually match up."

She walked over to him and embraced him. "So? What's his name gonna be then?"

"Ned," Eric answered confidently.

"Ned?" Sookie asked, looking around in confusion.

"Yeah," Eric said as he walked them over to a facsimile of a yellow striped cat. The facsimile was called "Cat Killing a Serpent"; it was from the Tomb of Sennedjem.

Sookie looked at the facsimile carefully. Indeed, it was the one she'd chosen for her favorite piece of the day. Even before she'd known about the impending arrival of the new member of their family, she'd been drawn to the image of the strong cat killing the serpent. Though the story behind the facsimile was not included in the museum's description of the piece, Sookie had recently copy-edited a book on Egyptian lore, and the story of the cat depicted in the facsimile had struck her then.

The tale of the cat and the serpent was from the Egyptian _Book of the Dead_. Ra, the sun god, took the form of a cat in order to destroy Apep, the spirit of darkness and destruction, who was hell-bent on stealing the light of the sun. In his jealousy, Apep, the snake, wanted to punish the well-loved Ra—which would, in turn, punish anyone who loved the light; he literally wanted to encircle the world and squeeze until it was only an empty, crushed shell. Apep was also unique among ancient Egyptian deities in that he could not be reasoned with; his evil consumed him. So he wanted to consume all good.

Sookie shivered a little. The facsimile had stood out to her from the moment she'd walked into the room. Eric called her "min sol" or "my sun" sometimes, but he was also the thing that most lit her own life. And she certainly viewed Appius as evil incarnate. She sighed. Appius was even more evil in her eyes because he focused seemingly all of his spite at his son, while pouring affection onto his other children, especially Nora. Her own mother, Michelle, had done the same when it came to Jason. Sookie often wondered how a parent could love one child so much and seemingly despise the other.

Yes. The story portrayed in the facsimile was appropriate, given Appius's most recent actions. However, when Eric had told her about getting their kitten that day, her choice had been solidified in her mind.

Sookie stared at the caption of the facsimile for a minute before she giggled. Looking at the name "Sennedjem," who was the occupant of the tomb where the painting had been found, she saw the word "ned" in the middle.

"Definitely Ned," she said, taking out her camera and snapping her picture.

* * *

There were seven kittens in the litter that Ned belonged to, but _their_ kitten stood out to Eric and Sookie from the moment they stepped into the room where Octavia was keeping Ned and his siblings. For one thing, he seemed to latch onto Sookie and Eric right away—quite literally. In fact, the little kitten seemed part dare-devil as his launched himself onto Eric's jeans and began to climb the long way up his leg.

"Just be careful that he doesn't do that on your bare legs," Octavia chuckled. "You got a scratching post like I suggested—right?"

"Yes," Sookie answered as she scooped little Ned off of Eric's jeans once he'd reached his mid-thigh. "He's so cute!" she exclaimed as she petted the purring ball of fur. "I can't believe he wasn't the first one picked."

Octavia chuckled. "He was the runt of the litter, and he was a little withdrawn from the others when he was younger—though you wouldn't know it now. In fact, that's one of the reasons why I didn't encourage you two to come and meet him when he was younger. For the first two weeks or so, I wasn't sure he'd make it, but he's been thriving lately." She winked at them, "And—as you can see—he's now the little extrovert, especially with people. He enjoys playing with his litter-mates, but he seems to enjoy playing with people even more."

Sookie grinned at the little yellow and white striped kitten that was squirming to get back to the floor. As soon as she put him down, however, he started to climb Eric's jeans again, much to the delight of both Eric and Sookie.

"Well, he seems to like you two. That's for sure!" Octavia laughed.

"So—where's Ned's mom?" Sookie asked.

Octavia explained that—for the past week—the mother cat had been let into the room only once a day to feed the kittens; otherwise, they were eating kitten food mixed with a little pet milk. Octavia also shared that she'd decided to keep Ned's mom since she was such a sweet cat. Generally, she found homes for the moms too, but Octavia had become attached to Ned's mom.

Octavia let Eric carry Ned with them as she led them out to her sunroom, where the mother cat was lazing on a comfortable-looking chair. The cat briefly looked up at them and then immediately laid her head back down as if to pretend that one of her kittens was _not_ in the room.

Octavia chuckled. "If you'd been holding little Ned like that six weeks ago, she would have gotten very agitated. However, when the kittens start to get sharp teeth, the momma cats start to prefer being _away_ from their offspring." She chuckled a little louder. "Bailey here complains every time I make her go see them now, but she was a really good momma until her milk started drying up. Today will be the last time I put her with them. Would you like to see Ned nurse for the last time?"

"Sure!" Sookie said as she stroked Ned's soft fur. He was currently sprawled out on his back in Eric's large hands; he looked as if he wanted to play and to sleep at the same time.

Octavia chuckled as she picked up Bailey. "Your little Ned there sleeps like the dead for most of the day, but he loves to explore when he's awake. I'm glad that you two have a big house for him to roam in. But I'll send you home with a water bottle."

"Water bottle?" Eric asked, as they followed Octavia back to the room where Ned's litter mates were. Bailey was wiggling with dissatisfaction.

"For my money," Octavia answered, "the best way to train a kitten not to scratch what you don't want him to scratch is to squirt him with a little water when he misbehaves." She entered the room and put Bailey into a little cat bed. Immediately sensing their mother was there, all the other kittens, who had been curled up asleep, popped up and ran over to her like vampires smelling fresh blood.

Octavia laughed, "_That's_ why Bailey's tired of them."

Eric chuckled as Octavia motioned for him to set Ned down near Bailey. Though Ned wasn't as rabid-seeming as the other kittens, he was excited at the prospect of milk, and it wasn't long before he was latched on to a teat. Bailey's expression could only be described as "long-suffering" in that moment.

"Now I always do a little basic training with my kittens to make sure that they behave." Octavia pointed over to the couch in the room. "For instance, they crawl all over that, but you don't see any claw marks because I squirt them if they start trying to scratch it. In fact, now all you have to do is shake the bottle, and most of them will stop doing whatever it was that they were doing before."

"So I assume, then, that we won't need to give Ned baths?" Eric asked.

"Not unless you like being clawed," Octavia chuckled. "Most cats hate water, and they keep themselves clean well enough. They are pretty self-sufficient really. A scoop of the litter box each day, and fresh water and food is all he'll need. I can already tell that y'all are gonna give him plenty of love and spoil him rotten. So he'll be a happy little lad."

Sookie smiled. "Will we have to train him to use the litter box?"

"Nope," Octavia responded. "He's already trained. Just make sure you show him where the litter box is right when you get home. And I always suggest that you feed the kitten near the litter box—at least at first. It'll help your Ned to establish his territory. And since he's a boy, be sure to get him neutered right at four months old. It's safe then, and he'll be young enough so that he hasn't yet felt the need to mark anything. He'd likely not feel the urge to mark his territory anyway, given the fact that you two have never had other pets in your home, but it's better to be safe than sorry."

Sookie nodded, even as she took some mental notes. Eric and she had already researched how to care for a kitten, and they'd even found a vet who was close to them and who got great reviews; however, Octavia was giving them some good practical advice.

Bailey seemed to have reached her limit and got up, leaving the kittens in a squirming pile behind her. Quickly she moved toward the door, and Octavia let her out with a chuckle.

"It'll be best to let his food settle for about half an hour before you take him—so that he won't get sick on the ride," Octavia advised, "but if you need to leave now, that's fine. Otherwise, I can show you around a bit."

"We're not in a hurry," Eric said, looking down at his watch. It was only 4:30 p.m.

"Good!" Octavia said. "I'll take you around to meet the various cats and kittens I have right now."

"So—uh—how did you start doing all this?" Sookie asked.

"After my husband died and my kids grew up and left, I had so much excess space that I almost decided to move, but I love this old house. My husband left me well-provided for, and, though I work part-time with Amelia at her shop, I was looking for something else to fill my time." She smiled a little. "My husband was always bringing in strays, and one day—about six months after he passed away—this pregnant cat showed up on my front stoop. And then things just went from there!"

Sookie smiled. "Amelia said that lots of people come by the store, looking to get one of your kittens."

"Yes," Octavia smiled. "I've already converted four of the rooms downstairs into what I call 'kitten stations.' I try to keep up a rotation so that I have litters at various stages," she explained, as she led them into a room where there was a pregnant cat sitting in a window seat.

"Wow! She looks like she's about to pop!" Sookie exclaimed as she reached out and let the cat smell her before petting it. She'd read to do that on a website.

"She is!" Octavia chuckled. "This momma cat's real sweet. You can feel the babies squirming around in her belly if you want."

Sookie moved her hand over the cat's belly and smiled widely. "Oh, my goodness!"

Eric reached out and touched the cat too. A look of awe settled onto his face, especially considering the fact that Sookie and he had talked about children only that morning.

Octavia smiled at the couple. "I go by the animal shelter I work with every two weeks or so and get another pregnant cat. They try to let me take the ones that are closest to their due dates, instead of euthanizing them."

"It's awful that they'll do that!" Sookie said with a frown. Though she understood that the stray animal population needed to be limited, she still felt bad for all the kittens who had been euthanized right along with their mothers.

"Well the man that runs the shelter I work with hates it too, but he has to follow city ordinances. Like I said, he keeps the mothers as long as he can, hoping someone will adopt them, and I try to take the ones like this momma—the ones who are nearing their time and haven't been adopted yet. I got this little—I mean _big_—girl only two days ago."

Next, Octavia led Eric and Sookie to a room across the hall where a litter of four tiny black kittens was lying next to their mother's warm body; their eyes were still sealed shut. The mother cat, who was also jet black, was bathing them. She hardly looked up from her task to regard her visitors.

"These kittens are only a week old," Octavia explained. "So the momma cat's really territorial about them. However, you can pick one up if you want. I try to get the kittens used to human touch."

Sookie bent down and picked up one of the black kittens. Bending down beside her, Eric also picking one up and stroked the wiggling kitten gently. After a minute or so, the momma cat started to look a little perturbed, so they put the kittens back against her and rose. Immediately, she started rewashing the two returned kittens.

Octavia chuckled. "Momma cats are funny. She's working on getting your scent off of them right now." Octavia led Eric and Sookie to one more room; inside was a litter of only two five-week-old kittens.

"If little Ned hadn't made it, this would have been your litter," Octavia said with a smile. "As you know, I put people on a waitlist and they get the litter they get. Otherwise, they'd all clamor for kittens like these."

"These are Persians—right?" Sookie asked, looking at the long-haired kittens.

"Yep," Octavia returned. "And they're pretty coveted. Usually I don't get pure breeds like this; however, this momma cat was brought into the pound when she was already extremely pregnant. In fact, the manager of the shelter called me and asked that I come get her right away. Thankfully, I had an empty room because she had her litter that very night!"

"Well they're cute," Eric said, "but I'm glad we got Ned. These have," he paused, "smashed noses. They look like something Sophie-Anne would want."

Sookie giggled. "I agree, but they _are_ cute. Of course, I think all kittens are pretty cute."

Octavia smiled and then led Eric and Sookie to her kitchen where she offered them some iced tea and went over some information with them. She didn't charge a fee for the kitten; however, she did take donations, which she used to keep up her service and to pay her granddaughter to help her with the cats. Octavia said that she would take any amount that they wanted to give, but her eyes grew momentarily wide when she read the number on the check Eric had given her.

Octavia talked to Eric and Sookie about the shots she would suggest for their kitten—though, since Ned wouldn't be around other animals, she explained that some immunizations weren't really necessary.

Sookie asked about whether they should let Ned out onto their terrace, and Octavia said that she'd never heard of a cat that had just jumped off of a balcony—like Sookie feared he might. She chuckled and informed them that cats' instincts and intelligence kept them from jumping anywhere unless they saw a good landing spot. She did suggest that they wait to take him outside until he was a little older, but that he'd be okay out there and would likely enjoy sunning himself outdoors. She also suggested that they plant a pot of cat grass for him to enjoy when he was outside.

When Sookie shared her fear that Ned might get hurt trying to get into the elevator, Octavia suggested that they use the spray bottle to train him to stay away from it if he seemed overly curious. She assured that he would learn soon enough.

Their business and chatting complete, Octavia led them back to the room where Ned and his litter were being kept. Eric and Sookie had bought a fabric carrying case for him since it had a soft bed inside, and—as Eric had been instructed—there was a towel in there too. The kittens, all curled together in what looked to be a milk coma, were sleeping soundly, so Octavia carefully lifted Ned and tucked him into the carrier. The kitten barely stirred.

"I know you'll enjoy him," Octavia smiled as she led Sookie and Eric to the door and handed Sookie a bag with a couple of cans of soft kitten food, some pet milk, an empty water bottle, and some brochures. There were several other identical bags on the table, so Sookie knew that each new set of "parents" got one, but she thought it was a nice gesture nonetheless, and she hugged Octavia and thanked her profusely for taking such good care of the newest member of her and Eric's little family.

* * *

**A/N: Well—it's late here, but I got you a third chapter for the week! I figured that Eric and Sookie could use a chapter with a little less stress, although we had a little at the beginning. I also wanted to take them back to the MET for a bit. **

**As you know, I'll now be moving to Uninvited for the next week or so. But **_**TtF**_** will return the week after that.**

**Thanks so much for all your wondering comments about this story! I appreciate all the "alerts," "favorites," etc. **

**XOXO,**

**Kat**

**Remember that you can see pictures—including one of Ned—on my WordPress. (californiakat1564 . wordpress . com)**


	4. Chapter 4: We Shall Fight

**Chapter 04: We Shall Fight**

"_**We shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender."—Winston Churchill**_

Other than a few nervous minutes for Ned when Eric and Sookie first got him into the taxi, the kitten slept on the ride to his new home. Although Tray texted to tell them that there was no sign of Sigebert, Eric and Sookie decided to play it safe by meeting him at the service entrance of Carmichael Tower.

In fact, Eric and Sookie had decided to play it safe for a while. They'd never gone into work together. Given the fact that Eric generally needed to arrive at least an hour before she did, that generally wasn't even an issue, but they often went for evening walks together along the Hudson. They decided to put those on hold—at least temporarily. Beyond that, it was really only the weekends that they had to be more careful about being seen leaving or arriving together, and they knew that Henry and his team would help.

Ned popped wide awake as soon as they got home, and his mission seemed to be to smell everything. Eric and Sookie carefully followed Octavia's instructions and took him to the room with his litter box first. While he was digging in it—seemingly intent to scatter a good deal of the litter on the floor—Sookie sat on the edge of the tub and watched the kitten, and Eric brought a little broom and dustpan from the utility room.

"We're gonna have to leave those back here," Sookie chuckled, gesturing toward the broom and then the floor.

Eric laughed and then felt almost proud when he saw Ned using the litter box for what it was meant to be used for before moving a seemingly huge pile of litter to cover his "work."

"Well, at least he seems to have learned where to take a shit quickly," he chuckled as he handed the water dish to Sookie, who filled it from the faucet. As soon as she set it down—on the other side of the room so that it wouldn't fall victim to Ned's future excavations in the litter box—the kitten ran over to it and took a drink. Meanwhile, Eric put a tiny bit of dry kitten food, moistened by water as Octavia had suggested, into the food bowl and set it down. Ned immediately chomped about half of it down before wandering out into the guest room to sniff around.

Eric and Sookie ordered pizza and spent the evening watching Ned's various discoveries or being his pillow when he decided to collapse for one of his frequent cat-naps. They soon learned that Octavia's assessment of their kitten was spot on. He did love to explore, but when he was ready to sleep, he slept like a log. He would find where Eric and Sookie were sitting, claw his way up Eric's jeans like a spelunker, and then settle onto one of his humans—sometimes both of them. When he would awaken, Eric or Sookie would always take him back to the guest bathroom, which they'd already started calling Ned's room, so that the kitten would continue getting used to his domain.

It wasn't until 8:00 p.m. that Eric and Sookie's mood became heavier as the first of their guests, Bobby, arrived. Amelia arrived a few minutes later, followed soon after by Pam. Henry and Thalia came up a few minutes after that, while Blake had stayed behind to babysit Thalia's kids in the home they all shared downstairs.

After the group met Ned, who thrived on the attention of the humans, Eric and Sookie got everyone drinks. Then they all settled into the lounge in the "gray" part of the house.

Everyone was amused when Ned crawled up Pam's designer slacks so that he could join the others on the couch. The look on Pam's face as she tried to figure out how to deal with the kitten, whom she immediately dubbed the "clothing cleaver," made everyone laugh—except for Pam.

Eric quickly got up and saved the kitten from "Aunt Pam" before bringing him to the opposite couch where Sookie, he, and Bobby had settled. The levity in the room quickly faded, however, as Eric began to tell Pam about what Nora had done the night before. He told her about the bug in his office, he told her about one of the Berts finding him at Amelia's brownstone, and then he told her about the plan to make it seem as if Amelia and he had been having a series of rendezvous so that Sookie would be kept out of everything.

"Is that why you dyed your hair?" Pam asked Amelia after Eric had finished speaking.

"Yeah," Amelia smiled. "Sookie opened the door for Eric last night, so the Bert might have glimpsed her. We thought it'd be better to play it safe and to make me a blonde."

"Good," Pam said. "Because when I saw you tonight, I was worried that you'd gone 'Single-White-Female' on me."

Everyone laughed as Pam leaned in and gave Amelia a little kiss. Given the fact that Pam wasn't generally one for public displays of attention, the gesture indicated her gratefulness more than any words could. Next, Pam got up and moved to the empty space next to Eric. She cuddled into his side for a moment before returning to her original spot.

The two siblings just looked at each other for a moment before Pam spoke up. "I've tried to hate Appius for your sake, but I can't. However, I want you to know that I love you _more_, bror, and it has now come down to a clear choice. And I pick you." She paused. "I swear that if our father gives me an ultimatum not to see you, I'll cut ties with him—even if it means that I have to leave NP. I have a hard enough time not kicking his ass as it is."

Eric smiled in appreciation. "It's important that you don't do that, Pam." He took a deep breath and looked at Sookie, who was looking back at him and smiling a little. Little Ned was lying curled up on her lap—oblivious to everything except the string on Sookie's hoodie.

Eric took another deep breath and looked around the room. He sighed. "Some of you know part of what I'm about to say, but Sookie and I feel it is important that you all know. We need your help, so you deserve to know. And Blake should know too," Eric said in Henry's direction. "Would you tell him for us?"

The ex-Navy SEAL nodded.

Eric took another deep breath. "My mother, Stella Larsson Northman, had a long-term affair with a man named Peder Lang. Though my parents had an open marriage, my mother hid her relationship with Peder. Complicating things was the fact that Peder, Stella, and Appius had a relationship altogether in college. Appius fell in love with both Peder and Stella." Eric paused. "From what I can tell, Appius thought that _he_ was the center of the relationship—that both Peder and Stella loved him, but _not_ each other. When he found out that they loved each other too, he couldn't stand it. He asked my mother to give Peder up to prove her love. She agreed and seemed to do just that. And then Appius broke ties with Peder."

"But your mother didn't really give Peder up," Thalia commented perceptively.

"No," Eric responded. "She chose Appius in _almost_ every way. She married him and was a good partner to him. And I believe that she loved him very much. However, a couple of times a year, she would meet Peder. My father found out right after she died. And he became certain that I was Peder's son." Eric raked his hand through his hair. "I will spare you the details, but suffice it to say that Appius took it upon himself to," he paused, "punish me for my mother's infidelity, and he set into motion a plan to get me to sign away—to him—what remained of my maternal grandfather's fortune. I fell into his trap, and right after I merged Johan Larsson's company with NP, Appius hit me with the news that I was not his son. But," Eric scoffed ruefully, "the joke was on him. The DNA test showed that I was his."

"Lemme guess," Henry said, "he _didn't_ apologize."

"No," Eric said gravely. "His reaction was to blackmail me into signing a contract with him. It was a contract that I thought I could live with," he said, looking at Sookie. "But I was wrong about that."

"What does it entail?" Thalia asked warily.

"I am to become CEO of NP when I turn thirty-five; in exchange for _almost_ complete autonomy, I will have to report to Appius once a year and keep the company performing up to a certain standard."

"And if you don't?" Henry asked.

"Then Appius or someone he appoints will come in and take things over for a year, though I will stay on as CEO officially—at a much lower salary, of course. My term as CEO is to be twenty years, and—after that time is over—I am to be summarily dismissed. I will get a trust fund left for me by my grandparents, but I will be forced to sell all my NP stock to Appius or his agent. But—those are _not_ the parts of the contract that I can no longer live with."

"What are those parts?" Thalia asked.

Eric sighed. "Another clause entails that I have to marry before I turn thirty-five and that the woman must meet certain qualifications."

"And Sookie wouldn't be qualified?" Henry asked, his words terse and his jaw tightened.

Eric shook his head. "No. She wouldn't, but I _won't_ give her up."

"And you've known this all along?" Henry asked Sookie.

"Yes. Eric told me the truth from the start," she responded, smiling a little at the protectiveness in Henry's tone. "And I was ready to settle for the time we could have."

"But now we're both _done_ with settling," Eric said defiantly.

"What is the penalty when you break the contract?" Henry asked Eric perceptively. "I know that Appius Northman would have put one into your contract."

Eric nodded. "Yes. And there is really only one window during which I can feasibly break it too."

"His thirty-fifth birthday," Bobby clarified. "There is an 'escape clause' of sorts on that day; otherwise, he will be forced to pay Appius ten billion dollars."

Thalia whistled. "Geez!"

Eric nodded. "Geez indeed. And, if I couldn't pay, I'd have to plead guilty of stealing from NP. Suffice it to say that breaking the contract before or after my thirty-fifth birthday would likely land me in prison for fifteen years—at least."

Pam gasped.

Eric looked around at everyone. "But on my thirty-fifth birthday, I _am_ going to breach that contract. I'm _not_ going to let Sookie go."

Pam sat stunned for a moment. "You realize that Father won't allow you to be CEO then."

Eric nodded. "I know and I'm okay with that. But that's not all he's going to do."

"What will he do?" Henry asked.

"When I breach the contract, he will take my stock and my trust fund. He will also stop paying my grandmother her stipend—a stipend which provides most of her income. And he will immediately shut down my division at NP, firing everyone." Eric took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "A hundred and four people will be harmed when I break that contract, but I _have_ to break it." He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, it was to look at Sookie. His eyes held unshed tears. "I can't live like I'd been living before Sookie came into my life—not anymore."

She took his hand firmly, but gently. "Eric is going to warn the people in his division as he can and—if necessary—we'll try to help them financially until they are able to find other jobs." She squeezed his hand even as Ned bounced from her lap to his. "We'll do everything we can for them."

Eric sighed and gave her a little nod. "Yes. And I have a way to make sure that Mormor is taken care of too."

"I can help," Pam said.

Eric smiled at her. "Thanks."

"What about your home?" Pam asked, looking around the room.

Eric inhaled deeply. "I won't deny that I love it here, and I hope to find work that will let Sookie and me keep it, but it is just a collection of walls in the end." He looked at Sookie. "And home is wherever we can be together now."

She squeezed his hand again, trying to convey to him with her eyes just how grateful she was for his words and for what he was going to give up for her.

Eric garnered his strength from her. He took another deep breath and looked back at Pam. "I'll have to break ties to everyone in the family except you, Alexei, and maybe Gracie—if Tamara lets me stay in contact with her without Appius knowing."

"What about Appius Jr. You love him," Pam said.

"Once I breach the contract and go against Appius's wishes, you and I both know that he won't allow me access to A.J. I figure that Tamara may defy Appius and let me stay in contact with Gracie—though I don't want to create any trouble for either of them. Alexei will do what he wants. And I know that I won't lose you. Hopefully, when A.J. is older, I can initiate some contact with him so that he knows how much I want to be a brother to him, but I know that Appius will try to block it just to hurt me." Eric sighed. "He may very well give you that ultimatum you mentioned. Or he might fire you from NP."

Pam let out a haggard breath and nodded in understanding. "I will be prepared. But what will you do for work?" she asked her brother.

Eric sighed and dragged the hand that wasn't holding Sookie's through his hair. "I will try to get another job in publishing; however, Appius will likely attempt to interfere with those plans as long as I am in the States. Sookie and I might move to Europe or Asia so I can work there. Europe would make more sense since I can speak Swedish and French. I'd hate to leave New York, but if it comes to that, I'll have to. But—hopefully—Appius will forget that I exist and leave me alone."

"He won't," Pam said. "He'll try to keep hurting you."

Eric laughed ruefully. "That's what I figure. But we'll survive."

"And you'll really go with him if he has to move?" Pam asked Sookie.

"Yes," she answered without hesitation.

Eric squeezed Sookie's hand. "Once I'm completely free of Appius, Sookie and I are going to get married and start a family."

Pam smiled at them both. "You'll make each other happy."

"We already do," Eric said quietly.

Pam nodded. "Yeah. And as long as you promise that your little spawns won't be as hard on my Chanel as the clothing cleaver there, I'll happily be Aunt Pam to your teacups."

Eric chuckled. "No guarantees."

Bobby glanced at his watch. "I hate to interrupt one of Pam's rare _human_ moments," he said with a little snark and a wink in her direction, "but we'd better plan for what happens after 9:00 p.m. We have only fifteen or so minutes until show time."

Pam glared at Bobby as he distributed copies of the "script" he'd drafted for that night's "actors."

Meanwhile, Thalia opened her laptop and accessed the program that she was using to tamper with the listening device's signal.

* * *

Appius locked the door to his office and turned on his computer before pouring himself a glass of his favorite scotch and settling into his comfortable desk chair. Its upholstery was made from the skin of a porosus crocodile—a saltwater crocodile. The eighteen feet-long beast had been found in northern Australia in the Adelaide River. The saltwater crocodile was the largest of all reptiles. It was adaptable and deadly—a standard for all apex predators. Sitting in the chair reminded Appius of who he was, of who he needed to be, and of who Stella had _made_ him to be.

He glanced at the Revolutionary War era clock on his mantle and saw that it was 8:46 p.m. He knew that he would soon have a full report from Sigebert, and he'd received a text from Wybert a half an hour before. Apparently, Ms. Amelia Broadway—or Amelia _Carmichael_—hadn't been able to wait until 9:00 to visit Eric. She'd arrived at his home at a little after 8:00 p.m.

Appius savored his drink as his computer loaded the program he was using to overhear what went on in Eric's home office. So far, he had been quite amused by what he'd learned. Appius smiled. He would need to send Stan a thank you note for securing the listening device for him. An FBI "friend" of Stan's—a woman by the name of Lorena Krasiki—had gotten it.

Appius chuckled. He loved what a little bit of money and a good connection could accomplish. He also loved that—because of a little side-deal he'd made with Lorena—he now had proof that Stan was cheating on his wife. With Lorena! Of course, Stan had been sleeping with Appius's own mother for almost a decade; however, Appius would never allow his beloved mother to become embroiled in a scandal. But that wouldn't stop him from using other dirt against Stan—if it ever became necessary.

He took a long drink. While it was important to have dirt on one's enemies, he felt that it was _essential_ to have dirt on one's friends.

Appius stretched out his legs under his desk and leaned back in his chair. The program that monitored the listening device was actually quite ingenious. It cycled through any ambient noise and recorded only things that reached a certain decibel level. Thus, Appius was immediately able to tell that Eric likely hadn't been in his office since that morning. Sadly, Appius held out very little hope that he'd overhear anything of substance that night, and he lamented once again that he'd not been able to plant more bugs in Eric's home, but he comforted himself with the knowledge that he'd be at least be one step ahead of Eric when it came to the business and personal affairs his eldest child conducted from his home office.

Appius typed out a quick text to Lorena, asking her if she could get her hands on more listening devices—as well as a tracking device for Eric's personal vehicle. Eric didn't seem to drive his Corvette often; thus, Appius hadn't bothered with tracking it before. However, the elder Northman now felt the impulse to learn more about his son than ever.

Like a shark with blood in the water, he could sniff out that Eric had secrets just waiting to be discovered.

Sipping his whiskey, Appius listened once more to the recordings from that morning. Like a good little soldier, Eric had made sure that the Chinese delegation was taken care of before moving on to personal matters. Appius sighed and pulled out a cigar. He hated to admit it, but Eric couldn't be faulted for how he'd handled things with the delegation from Guangzhou Press—or most matters of business, as a matter of fact. Though Appius had criticized Eric the night before for his almost-subservient behavior to Mr. Li and his people, Eric's behavior was probably just what the Chinese executive had been expecting.

Unlike his pliable son, Appius hated the notion of adapting himself for anyone else. He'd always had the opinion that if people wanted to do business with him, then _they_ needed to adapt to him!

He chuckled as he listened once more to his son's side of a conversation with Amelia. It seemed that Eric had no compunction about sleeping around on Isabel Edgington. At first when he'd heard that Eric had rushed away from his home in order to meet up with a woman, Appius had been upset that Eric might fuck up things with Russell's daughter. However, once he read Sigebert's preliminary report giving the identity of the resident of the house Eric went to in Brooklyn, he had been much less dismayed.

The Carmichael family was at least as worthy of a potential alliance as the de Castros or the Edgingtons. Of course, Appius had hoped to manipulate Eric into marrying Freyda. Yes—he'd reveled in the notion of the erratic Miss de Castro driving Eric to an early grave. And, truth be told, he still had a few plans in reserve where the unbalanced woman was concerned, but if Eric continued being stubborn and kept insisting upon making his own choice about his wife, he could do much worse than Isabel or Amelia.

Heck—maybe the Carmichaels would be best. After all, when Copely's wife had been alive, Cope had been one of Appius's closest friends. However, Cope had changed from the single-minded, driven businessman he'd once been after he lost his life-partner. He'd pulled himself out of the New York social scene for the most part, and he now stayed in the Hamptons almost fulltime. And when Cope was in Manhattan, he tended to spend his time with his grandchildren—instead of at the exclusive University Club, where the most powerful men of the city congregated for society.

The elder Northman sighed. Truth be told, it had likely been Nora's behavior at the NP party two years before that had initiated Cope's withdrawal from Appius. But he didn't blame Nora for the situation. After all, Cope had been single, and Nora had always been attracted to powerful men. No—he blamed Eric. Eric had been the one to escalate the situation by literally pulling Nora away from Cope and causing a spectacle. Appius pushed his fingers against the bridge of his nose to alleviate the tension that was building there. If Eric had just left things alone that night, Nora and Cope may very well have gotten together.

However, if Eric married Amelia Carmichael—or Broadway or whatever she wanted to call herself—it might work out well to Appius's advantage. And it might help him to reestablish his friendship with Cope as well.

In fact, Amelia was just as good of a choice as Isabel in most ways. Sadly, Amelia wasn't an only child, but she would inherit a good deal of money nonetheless, maybe even more than her brother since Paul Carmichael would likely inherit the company. The Carmichaels were "old money," and they had loads of it. Yes—Appius thought—the introduction of Amelia into the scenario wasn't bad at all. Now—if Eric fucked it up with one of the women, he'd have the other to fall back on.

His cigar trimmed and lit, Appius enjoyed a few puffs before opening and reading Sigebert's full report, which had just arrived in his in-box.

Sigebert had arrived outside of Eric's building the night before only a couple of minutes before Eric left it; luckily, however, Sigebert had been able to follow the cab that took Eric to Brooklyn. As he drove by the house, trying to get a glimpse of who answered the door, Sigebert had only seen a blonde pull Eric into the brownstone. And by the time he'd parked and returned to scope out the building, there was no sign of anyone. He'd caught a glimpse of someone an hour later, but the lights had been turned off before he could get a clear view. Given that the occupants of the home were obviously in for the night, Sigebert had returned to his car and contacted his connections in order to discover the identity of the woman Eric was visiting.

Appius scrolled through the pictures of Eric and Amelia, which Sigebert had snapped that morning and which were included in his report. Appius had actually seen the girl—Amelia—a few times, though it had been several years before. And even though the girl's hair was now a different color, Appius had no trouble recognizing her. She was the spitting image of her mother.

It certainly seemed that his son was quite "close" with her. And that supposition had been confirmed by the phone call exchanged by them about an hour later once Eric had returned home. Sigebert had watched Eric's building for another few hours before leaving in order to continue his research on Amelia. Appius chuckled. Apparently the eccentric girl ran some kind of Wiccan/magic shop in the Village. Appius didn't have a problem with that, however. In many ways it would be better if Eric married a relatively mindless or "flighty" woman. Then, he'd control her money, which Appius figured Eric would use to expand the company, even though he'd ultimately get no return for his troubles.

With satisfaction, Appius leaned further back in his chair and thought about his son's desperate need to please him—to earn his approval. Of course, he would never give it, but it was amusing to watch Eric squirm for it.

After Appius had discovered that Eric was his biological son, he had briefly considered trying to accept the child and building a relationship with him, but Eric would be forever tainted by his mother in Appius's eyes. He was too much like her. And—if anything—Appius's hatred for Eric continued to grow with each passing day.

But that didn't seem to matter at all to Eric. Appius could still tell that the boy longed for acceptance and love. God knows, Appius had done his best to make sure that he'd never found either. Appius lamented the fact that Eric derived any pleasure from his relationships with Isabel and Amelia, but—at the end of the day—he knew that they were relationships based on position and convenience, not love. At best, Eric would have a marriage like the ones Appius had had with Tamara or Beth or Sophie-Anne. All of those relationships had been profitable, but none had been personally satisfying to Appius—beyond the children the women had given him.

Appius also hated the fact that Eric found pleasure in his work, but—then again—Appius knew firsthand that work was not a strong enough elixir to make someone content. Eric clearly craved family and love, and as long as Appius was able to control Eric's access to those things, he would be able to easily maintain control over his son. He just needed to make sure that Eric never found out about John Northman's Will. Appius scoffed. He refused to acknowledge John Northman as his father anymore—not after his betrayal!

He took several deep and calming breaths. Given the fact that only he, his mother, Nora, and Cataliades knew about the Will, the chances of Eric learning of it weren't great. However, Appius wouldn't put it past his father to have left Eric a clue or a letter regarding the Will's contents, and that possibility was what Appius feared the most.

Meanwhile, Appius would continue to dangle just enough carrots in front of Eric in order to keep him in line. Relationships with his siblings were definitely some of those carrots. For some reason Appius couldn't fathom, all of his other children seemed drawn to Eric in some way; even Nora was reticent about doing Eric harm, though Appius had been able to use her loyalty to him in order to get her to do what he needed.

Appius figured it was natural for Pam to be somewhat close to her brother. Appius hadn't liked it, but she had spent quite a bit of time with Eric when they'd both visited Stella's parents in Sweden. Appius had hated letting Pam have anything to do with the Larssons, especially Elsa, who was just as duplicitous as her daughter in Appius's opinion. However, Appius had to allow it so that he wouldn't show his hand too soon.

Luckily, Eric had clearly never told Pam anything about the paternity test; otherwise, she would have confronted him about it.

Appius chuckled. No—Pamela was his spitfire and had never been able to keep anything close to the vest; thus, he would know if Eric ever tried to turn her against him.

Appius took a puff of his cigar and considered Eric's relationship with his other children. Over the years, Alexei and Eric had become relatively close during the few weeks when he was in the house for his winter breaks. Appius had been enraged when he discovered that Eric had taught Alexei how to swim. Appius had been planning to secure the boy lessons since Alexei had been somewhat frightened of the water.

Eric's teaching Alexei had forever raised Eric in Alexei's estimation. Even now, when Alexei chose to come home for Christmas—which he didn't do often—his middle son would seek out Eric to speak with. There was something about Eric that seemed to calm down his younger brother, and—more than once—Appius had thought about asking Eric to speak with Alexei regarding his wild antics. But in the end, Appius didn't want to encourage that relationship or give Eric any position of value in the family.

Then there were Gracie and Appius, Jr., both of whom had gravitated toward Eric even in their infancy and even though Eric was so rarely in the house. Appius wasn't able to fathom how Eric so drew them to him, but the elder Northman had and would continue to use that knowledge to keep Eric on his hook.

And—of course—Appius knew that Eric loved NP, especially his own division, which was growing and flourishing.

Appius smiled. Yes—he had ultimate control over everything that Eric valued or wanted. And the best thing was that Eric had no idea of the control that he _could_ have—if he knew of John Northman's Will. Appius was determined to keep it that way.

As Appius puffed on his cigar, he was surprised when the program running the surveillance equipment clicked. That meant that there was a live signal. Appius smiled in anticipation.

"So _this_ is where you work when you're home," a female voice said.

_Amelia_—Appius thought to himself.

"What? You wouldn't call what we just did in the bedroom _work_?" came Eric's smooth reply.

Amelia giggled. "I'd call _that_ a work out."

Eric chuckled and then Appius heard a muffled sound that seemed to indicate that the couple he was listening to was sharing a kiss.

"I want to take you on my desk," Eric practically growled.

"Mmmm," Amelia responded. "That sounds nice, but I'd rather have you in your hot tub—as you suggested earlier."

"Why not both?" Eric asked gruffly as there were more muffled noises, this time accompanied by moans and grunts.

Appius was about to turn off the system, given the fact that he didn't want to hear his own son having sex, when he heard a phone ring in Eric's office. He sat forward with interest, wondering who could be calling.

* * *

**A/N: Hello all! Well—it's my week for working on this story! My goal is to get you at least one more chapter by this coming Tuesday (Wednesday, I switch back to **_**Uninvited**_**.) But—if you are following that story—you may know that I've had an avalanche of essay come in, so I'm working on my stories only during grading breaks (which translates to only an hour or two of "fun work" a day). **

**Thanks so much for all of you who continue to read and support this story! I appreciate it more than I can say! It's so odd b/c **_**Uninvited**_** has so many more followers and reviewers than this story (probably b/c not as many people read the all-human stories). But that means that ****every single review/comment**** I get for this one is "more treasured" in a way. You all have been on this journey with me for a long time, and I wanted to make sure that you knew how thankful I am for that! **

**XOXOXO,**

**Kat**


	5. Chapter 5: Purgatory

**Chapter 05: Purgatory **

_ "I want to take you on my desk," Eric practically growled._

_ "Mmmm," Amelia responded. "That sounds nice, but I'd rather have you in your hot tub—as you suggested earlier."_

_ "Why not both?" Eric asked gruffly as there were more muffled noises, this time accompanied by moans and grunts._

_ Appius was about to turn off the system, given the fact that he didn't want to hear his own son having sex, when he heard a phone ring in Eric's office. He sat forward with interest, wondering who could be calling. _

"Shhhh," Eric requested of his companion, who let out a muffled giggle.

"Hello Isabel," he said a moment later, obviously having answered the phone.

There was a pause.

"No—I'm just hanging out with Amelia. What's up?" Eric asked.

Appius chuckled at his son's brazenness.

A few moments later, Eric's voice was heard again. "Sure. I'm free October 13? What's the event?" he asked.

There was another pause.

"Yes. That sounds fine. I assume it's black tie?"

Another pause.

"Alright then. Oh—and we're still on for the fifth—right?"

Another pause.

"Good. And, Izzy, remember you can spend the night then if you wish."

After another pause, Eric chuckled and then obviously hung up the phone.

"What's so funny?" Amelia asked.

Appius was curious too.

"Isabel just said that she'd be busy with her young boy toy after the event on the fifth," Eric laughed.

"So—he's really just nineteen?"

"Yeah—or twenty."

"And he was an intern at her father's company?"

"Yeah."

"Did they get together while he was working for her—_under_ her?" Amelia giggled.

"No. You know Izzy. She's too careful about that kind of thing. She waited until he was done with the summer internship to start up something with him."

"Is it serious?"

"Oh God no!" Eric responded. "She's just toying with him."

"Kind of like I'm toying with you?" she purred.

Appius heard more muffled noises and then an out-of-breath Eric.

"_Exactly_ like that."

Amelia giggled. "Well—I suppose you're toying with me too. So it's only fair"

"Yes—it's all _very_ convenient."

"Do you really like the blond hair?" she asked. "I'm thinking of making it permanent—at least for a while," she giggled.

"I love it. And temporary permanence sounds about right," he chuckled.

"Good," she responded. "So—Isabel really has no problem with knowing I'm here with you? Ravaging you?"

"Of course not!" Eric exclaimed. "Izzy knows that you and I just fuck. And it's not like she and I will ever be exclusive—even after we marry."

Appius sat forward in his chair a little more, now riveted by the information he was gleaning from the conversation.

"I'd think you'd want to marry for love," Amelia said with a little pout in her voice.

"Why would anyone do that?" Eric asked incredulously. "My father may be a rat bastard, but he's got _that_ aspect of life right on."

Amelia laughed. "Do you really hate the great and powerful Appius Northman?" she asked dramatically.

Eric sighed. "No."

"He does seem a little hard on you—at least, according to Isabel."

There was a momentary lull in the conversation as if Eric were thinking about his response.

"My father is a hard man, and I did hate him for a while, but we've come to an understanding—he and I. We even have a contract."

"A contract?"

"Yes. The basics are that I get married before I turn 35—to someone who meets his set of standards, of course—and I become CEO for a couple of decades. After that, I should be ready to retire anyway. It's a win-win."

"And—of course—your father would approve of _perfect_ Isabel Edgington and her _perfect_ fortune," Amelia said sarcastically.

"You know—he'd approve of you too," Eric responded seriously. "And I think _I _would prefer you too. You're so," he chuckled, "flexible."

Amelia giggled. "You know I don't want to get married, and you know I usually like women too."

Eric laughed out loud. "All the better! Just think of the threesomes we could have."

"Oh I have," Amelia answered. There were more muffled noises after that and the sound of furniture scraping on the wood floor.

"Mmmm," Eric sounded. "You and I could fuck like rabbits for years to come, sweet Amelia. We could have a couple of kids. And we could maintain our independence in most ways."

"No thanks," she said a little breathlessly. "No offense, but I'm not sure I'd want you for years, and I _definitely_ don't want to shoot out any brats."

"Well—if you change your mind, let me know." He sighed. "I'm ambivalent about the kids' thing too," he said flippantly. "But I have to produce or adopt at least one according to the terms of the contract. But—no matter—there's no reason why you and I can't continue to have our fun even after Izzy and I marry—if we want."

"When are you planning to do that?" Amelia asked.

Appius sat forward a little more.

"At the last fucking possible minute: the weekend before I turn thirty-five," Eric laughed. "We've decided not even to get publicly engaged. We'll just elope in Vegas when the time comes. Thankfully, Izzy isn't the romantic type, and she wants her freedom for as long as possible—just like I want mine."

"But you'll still be free," Amelia purred.

"Yes," Eric said, "but Izzy and I will both have to be more," he paused, "discreet, and we've agreed not to see other people until she's pregnant. Hopefully, that doesn't take too long."

"I can't really see you as a father," Amelia chuckled.

"I like kids, _and_," he paused dramatically, "I can afford a nanny,"

They both chuckled.

"Plus," he added, "Izzy wants a couple of kids, and she's told me that she wants them to be mine, so as long as you don't change your mind, I think she's my best choice."

Amelia laughed. "Don't ever let her hear you say it that way. It sounds like you see her as some kind of consolation prize."

Appius could almost picture Eric shrugging. "No—I just see marriage as an obligation that I have to fulfill: a hoop to jump through." He sighed audibly. "Anyway, I think I'd prefer you. You make me laugh more, and Izzy seems to prefer her younger men when it comes to sex."

Amelia giggled. "So your ego's been bruised."

Eric chuckled. "Maybe—a little. That's why I need you to stroke it," he said suggestively.

"Mmmm," she sounded.

Appius heard a few muffled noises.

"Like this?" Amelia purred.

"Yes," Eric panted.

There were more muffled noises and the sound of a grumble.

"Hey—why'd you stop?" Eric asked with a pout.

"I don't want your ego to get too big," she said coquettishly.

He chuckled. "You didn't complain about its size earlier."

"Hmm. Anyway, I'm still curious. Why Izzy? I mean—she's nice and all, but why be with someone who doesn't prefer you?"

Eric scoffed. "It's not like _you_ would prefer me if we were together for long either. And I don't want a vapid wife with no independent thought! No. The thing that you and Izzy have in common is that you are both capable of having an intelligent conversation—at least on occasion," he added teasingly.

Appius heard what sounded like a smack to Eric's bare shoulder.

"Hey," he said with mock injury. "I'm just saying that I appreciate both you and Izzy—a lot more than I would some mindless debutante who trailed me around like a romantic schoolgirl. And I don't have to lie to you. Neither of you has any false notions of what I can give you."

"I suppose that's a comfort," Amelia said after some consideration.

"More than you know. But—realistically—Isabel is the better choice for me for marriage."

"Hey!" Amelia cried out, sounding a bit offended.

Eric chuckled. "Hey yourself. _You_ are the one who said that you don't want kids or marriage. And Isabel _does_—with me. Of course, if you change your mind in the next three and a half years, that's a different story, and we could have this conversation again."

"I won't be changing my mind, Eric," Amelia warned.

"Fine," he responded somewhat indifferently. "Izzy and I already have an arrangement anyway. And, frankly, as long as I find someone willing to bear my children and to give me my freedom, I'm fine with almost anyone."

"As long as she meets your father's standards," Amelia reminded.

"Of course," Eric said. "In fact, that's why I'm not really fucking around with too many other women right now. For one thing, I prefer fucking you, and Izzy's nice for a lay sometimes as well. Other women just complicate things."

"You're such a sweet talker," Amelia deadpanned.

"Would you prefer I talk dirty to you?" Eric purred suggestively.

"Abso-fucking-lutely," Amelia returned, "_especially_ if you do it in the hot tub."

"I thought we were starting on the desk," Eric said.

"I'm leaving in an hour and I want the tub," Amelia insisted.

"Fine," Eric chuckled.

Appius heard what seemed to be Eric picking Amelia up.

"We'll do it your way this time," Eric said, "but I reserve the right to fuck you on my desk another time."

Amelia giggled.

Appius listened to footsteps leave the room and then something that sounded like a door closing. And then there was silence. He got up and poured himself another Scotch before returning to his seat.

* * *

The fifteen minutes that Amelia and Eric read through their lines for Appius's benefit was definitely the most awkward fifteen minutes of Sookie's life. However, she knew that it was probably much more awkward for Amelia and Eric—especially Amelia.

The moment that Eric had read through his script—complete with stage directions from Bobby—Eric had threatened to rip it _and_ Bobby in two. However, then Bobby clarified that the things he had called the "extra bits"—which included the kissing and the moaning and the grunting and the pawing and the pushing around of items on the desk—were meant for Eric and Sookie to do.

_While Amelia was in the room_!

Hearing that, it had been Sookie who had almost torn up the script. However, Bobby had convinced Eric and Sookie that it would be best if a little fooling around was thrown into the performance so that it sounded more authentic. And since Eric and Amelia certainly didn't want to fool around with each other, Sookie would be "filling in" for that part of the act.

Bobby would have volunteered himself and Pam to do that part, but the fewer people in the room, the better. Plus, if the looks passing between Pam and Amelia were any indication, they were probably going to be moving toward that more exclusive relationship Pam had been wanting, and Bobby didn't want to throw a wrench into that by making Amelia witness him playing tonsil hockey with her soon-to-be girlfriend.

Eventually, it was decided that Sookie would already be sitting on Eric's desk when Thalia relinquished control of the listening device. Eric and Amelia would then walk into the office together and begin their lines. And when Eric was supposedly fooling around with Amelia, he would actually be fooling around with Sookie. Bobby led the reluctant actors through a rehearsal of sorts, and then to ensure that it wouldn't sound as if Amelia was too far away from Eric, it was determined that Eric would have to lift Amelia up on the desk before the first "make-out" session with Sookie. At Sookie's insistence, Amelia swore that she would close her eyes during those parts.

So that he wouldn't steal the show, so to speak, Ned was left with Henry and Bobby since "Aunt" Pam refused to watch out for him. Meanwhile, from the master bedroom, Thalia had pretended to be Isabel and had called Eric during the scene. Then she'd moved to the sitting room where she'd awaited Eric's signal to take back control of the listening device.

In truth, the performance had gone flawlessly, and despite the fact that they were play-acting, the passion between Eric and Sookie had flared as it always did. The only hitch had come when Eric had to lift Sookie from the desk once the show was over. Amelia had been unable to miss the erection Eric had gotten from pawing Sookie, and she'd gasped and then giggled a little. Thankfully, those sounds had fit with the script.

Right after the "performance" was over, Thalia hijacked the signal from Appius's bug again. And then the group moved back to the gray lounge after Eric and Sookie had made sure Ned had some kitten chow and fresh pet milk. They were happy to hear from Henry that their little guy had visited "his" room and his litter box on his own while they were away from him.

The group made small talk while Bobby and Thalia refreshed everyone's drinks.

Right as the duo reentered the room with several newly opened beers, Henry received a text from Rasul, which indicated that "the Bert" who'd been staking out the building had just left.

A collective sigh of relief spread around the room.

"Do you really think it worked already?" Sookie asked nervously as she leaned into Eric so that Ned could settle onto them both.

Bobby and Eric shared a look, and then Bobby nodded.

"It likely did work, but I'll be keeping an eye on Sigebert and Wybert for a while—just to be sure," Bobby said.

"What if they see you watching them?" Eric asked pragmatically.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "They won't see me, and you know it. Those buffoons stick out like sore thumbs; you know that the only reason you missed the Bert yesterday was because you were . . . ." He paused.

"Freaking out?" Eric asked with a hint of a smirk.

Bobby smirked back. "Yeah."

"Just in case, I should probably leave in half an hour or so—since that's when I said I was going to," Amelia said, looking at Pam.

Pam took that as her cue to get up. "Then let's make the most of that time," she said to Amelia. She reached her hand out to the other woman, and her expression softened markedly when Amelia stood with her.

Pam looked at Eric. "Can I hitch a ride to work tomorrow?"

Eric nodded. "Sure—but I'm leaving at 6:00 a.m."

Pam cringed a little, but then nodded in affirmation as she led Amelia toward the elevators after kissing Eric on the cheek.

"Are they together now?" Henry asked in Bobby's direction. "_Together_-together?"

"That seems to be what Pam wants," Bobby indicated.

"Amelia too," Sookie smiled. "At least that's what I think she wants."

"And now all they have to do is communicate that fact with each other," Thalia observed dryly. "And I'll wager fifty bucks that it takes them a year to get that done."

Everyone in the room chuckled at the truth of that statement before Henry turned serious. "Tray took advantage of the timeframe between the Berts' visits and installed a camera pointing directly toward where they've been stationing themselves. The camera's well-concealed, so they're unlikely to spot it. As long as the Berts stay predictable, which I'm sure they will, we'll know when one of them is here, and we'll text you, but—for now—I think it's best if Sookie doesn't use the front entrance."

Eric nodded, even as Sookie went to protest. "But I have to leave the building to get to work."

"Rasul or I can drive you to the 86th Street station in the mornings," Henry said, his voice firm.

"And when she comes home?" Eric asked.

"_She_ can talk for herself," Sookie said. "And _she_ likes the walk home. So _she's_ gonna keep doing it."

Eric looked at her with concern in his eyes.

"But I'll text Henry when I'm a block away," Sookie sighed, trying to ease Eric's fears, "and I won't come in through the main entrance."

Henry smiled at Sookie. More and more every day, she was speaking up for herself, and the little spitfire, who was coming into her own, was becoming even more endearing to him.

Eric looked at Henry, who quickly nodded in agreement to the plan.

Thalia spoke up even as she was checking something on her laptop. "I have some information about the listening device."

"What is it?" Sookie asked nervously, leaning into Eric a little more. Ned, now completely stretched out onto his back in the crack at the juncture of their thighs, didn't move.

"Just as I thought when I first saw it," Thalia said cautiously, "it's Government Issue, but it's not next-generation. The SEALs are using more sophisticated, passive devices, which are a lot more difficult to detect," Thalia informed. "The one Appius is using is passive—in that it only activates when the sound goes above a certain decibel level—but it generates a continuous signal. It's the kind of thing the FBI was using ten or so years ago."

"How do you know all that?" Eric asked.

Thalia shrugged. "Part of my job in the Navy was sweeping for surveillance equipment. We had a lot of locals helping us out, but it was sometimes difficult to tell friend from foe."

Eric nodded in understanding, once more amazed at the service both Thalia and Henry had done for their country.

"Are you sure you're not going to have a problem controlling the signal?" Sookie asked.

"Nah—that part's easy," Thalia assured. "I'm just using a simple hacking program to hijack Appius's signal."

"You should call Isabel tomorrow," Bobby said to Eric, "and explain what's going on—at least as it pertains to her."

"Will she help?" Henry asked.

"Yeah," Eric responded. "She'll help. This doesn't change anything between Isabel and me—not really. And I think she'll definitely be willing to pretend that we have a secret marriage arrangement, especially since we sort of did."

"She won't be bitter—when you tell her that's off?" Thalia asked.

Eric shook his head. "No. We were each other's back-up plan, but it's not like there is an emotional attachment between us—not beyond friendship, at least."

Bobby nodded. "Eric's right. Isabel is much too pragmatic to be vindictive."

"And," Eric added, "things might be even easier for her after tonight. Given what we let Appius hear, it won't matter if Isabel's seen with other men. Just as long as Appius thinks we're going to elope right before my thirty-fifth birthday, nothing else we do will really matter—as long as she doesn't decide to marry anyone else in that time, that is."

Bobby sighed. "We can cross that bridge if we come to it. Meanwhile, you just need to be careful."

* * *

"This little guy is going to cramp my style," Eric chuckled. He and Sookie were facing each other in their bed, and little Ned had planted himself between them so that he could receive petting from both of them.

"You seemed to manage earlier," Sookie said with a coy smile.

He chuckled. "Yeah—I have to hand it to the little fella. He definitely seemed to know when to make himself scarce."

"He was probably scared of all the noises you were making," Sookie smiled shyly as she moved her petting to Eric's bare chest.

"The noises _I_ was making?"

"Mmm hmm."

"What about your noises, Miss Stackhouse?"

"What noises?" she replied with false ignorance, even as a blush spread across her cheeks. In truth, both Eric and she were almost always very noisy when they made love.

"Shall I remind you, min älskare?" Eric asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I think you'd better," she purred, even as the other purring creature on the bed took the hint and jumped off the bed so that he could further learn his new territory and get away from the earthquake about to happen on the bed.

* * *

Appius smiled as he took a puff on his second Cuban cigar of the night. It was a "special occasion," after all, and he felt like celebrating.

Everything was falling into place perfectly.

He had been relieved to learn that Eric already had an arrangement in place with Isabel Edgington. Appius himself was a big believer that marriages were best when the couple got together based on similar goals, versus antiquated notions of love. The only time he'd ever married for love had ended disastrously. It seemed that Eric was—unwittingly—a chip off the old block in that he recognized that "business-type" marriages were best.

He sighed. Of course, it would be better if Eric were miserable with someone like Freyda, but to live a half-life was the next best thing. It was—after all—the kind of purgatory in which Appius had been forced to live ever since he'd learned of Peder and Stella's betrayal.

He closed his eyes. They were the two people for whom he would have given his life. Ironically, in the end, he _had_ given up "life" _because_ of them—because of their duplicity.

Whoever said that purgatory was better than hell was a fucking idiot! It was just a different kind of hell—a worse one—for it was close enough to heaven so that Appius knew what he was truly missing.

He took a long swig of his scotch and then opened the bottom drawer of his desk. He reached into the back of the drawer, a trek that his hands had taken so many times over the years that he didn't even need to look. He pulled a well-worn picture out, but kept it face down on his desk for a moment.

Appius sat back and stared at the yellowed paper, even as he listened to the recording of Eric and Amelia again.

He sighed. Eric was behaving just as Appius wanted him to. Clearly, Eric seemed determined to fulfill their contract, which was all Appius could ask for. And—even better—Eric was on his way to a loveless, empty marriage of convenience.

A purgatory.

"It's what he deserves," Appius grumbled into the empty room. "_Her_ son doesn't deserve to know love," he continued, "because she took love away from me."

He flipped the picture over and saw the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. Even after all these years, it still affected him—still made his throat tight and his eyes burn.

The image had been captured moments after Eric had been born. Appius had cut the cord and then watched in awe as the doctor placed the wiggling boy onto his mother's chest. Immediately, Eric had stopped squirming and crying and had looked upward to find the sound of his mother's voice.

Two sets of brilliant blue eyes had locked tenderly together.

_That_ was the moment captured forever on film—the best moment of Appius Northman's life.

His beloved wife. His beloved son. His future. His happiness. His love. His everything.

His fleeting heaven.

Now—his purgatory.

* * *

**A/N: Well—this chapter required less revision than I thought it would so it's out ahead of schedule. That means that, despite the grading, I **_**might**_** be able to get one more chapter to you before Wednesday. **

**Thanks for all the comments and support I got for the last chapter! I appreciate those of you who take the time to remind me that this story is loved, even if it doesn't have as many followers as my others. Truth be told, as I said in one of my replies, I would write it even if I were the only reader because the story is so close to my heart. And—I know that those of you who are still with me feel the same. And I treasure that fact! **

**So—that's it for September. The next chapter will jump to late December-and you know what that means? Yep-that will put us closer to the first chapter of **_**Comfortably Numb**_**. Was that chapter an "act" for Appius's benefit? Or was it real? I will tell you that it wasn't a dream. I've been getting PM's asking if I was going to Bobby Ewing you. (Does anyone still know that reference? LOL) I'm not going to do that. I swear! That chapter was not a nightmare that Eric or Sookie was having, but nice try. ;) **

**That said, I'm not going to answer whether the first chapter was an act or real right now. For that—you'll have to stay tuned. **

**Kat**


	6. Chapter 6: Reframed Corners

**Chapter 06: Reframed Corners**

_Thursday, December 27, 2012_

Snow had been falling in the city since the day before, and even though there was not much accumulation on the ground, large flakes still fluttered through the air almost playfully.

"The city is so quiet when it snows," Sookie mused from her and Eric's position in the hot tub. Neither of them was ready to get out just yet. The combination of the intermittent flakes and the hot water was intoxicating. Moreover, they were both feeling lazy after their recent love making.

Eric sighed.

"What is it?" she asked. After six months with him, she knew all of his sighs. And she knew that one had been _weighty_.

"I don't want to go into the office today," he sulked a little.

"Poor baby," she giggled as she leaned up to kiss him.

"You get to stay here all cozy."

"And naked," she grinned.

He groaned. "Now I _really_ want to stay home."

Sookie giggled. "Sorry—you'll just have to hurry up and get your meeting over with so that you can get back and resume nakedness with me."

Eric sighed again, though somewhat less heavily than before. "Why Appius wanted this update about China today is fucking beyond me."

"Is it?" Sookie asked, eyebrow rising.

"No," Eric admitted. "I know that Appius just wants to yank me around by bringing me in on what was meant to be a vacation day."

"Exactly," Sookie said. "So just go in, have the meeting, listen to his idiocy for an hour or two, and then come home and forget about it."

"I like the sound of that last part," he said nuzzling her neck.

"We should probably get out of this tub before I _literally_ turn into a prune," Sookie sighed, looking at her water-logged fingers.

"Okay," he agreed, not worrying at all about his nudity as he stood and helped her up. Sookie was nude as well, though she was still not all that comfortable going _au naturel_ outside of their home, even though Eric had convinced her that there was no way anyone would see them in their hot tub unless a helicopter was hovering right next to their terrace.

He chuckled as she quickly covered what she called her "lady bits" with a towel and started drying off even as she hurried into the house. At a much more leisurely pace, he turned off and then covered the hot tub before grabbing his own towel. He didn't bother to dry off much because he knew that Sookie would be heading to the sauna, and he planned to join her there for a steam—and, if he was lucky, a little steaminess.

When he got inside, Ned was waiting expectantly for him. And if a kitten could pout, theirs was doing just that. "I see you've been expelled from the sauna?" Eric chuckled as he bent down to pet the quickly-growing kitten. In the three months that they'd had little Ned, he'd quickly established a routine of following Eric and Sookie to whatever room they were in at the time, though if they were in different rooms, he'd generally trail Sookie, especially if she was headed for the kitchen. However, the one room he wasn't allowed into was the sauna room, and Ned was _not_ a happy camper about that!

Eric used his long legs to outpace the feline, who glared at him when he slipped into the sauna room to join Sookie.

Eric chuckled. "Ned is displeased."

She giggled. "He hates it when we're in here. I think he thinks this is the party room."

"It is sometimes," Eric leered as he dropped his towel and sat next to her.

Sookie gasped a little—as she always did—when she saw his quickly growing cock, rising toward his belly.

"I think that I could go for a little party," she leered back as she climbed up on his lap and reached backwards to stroke him.

He closed his eyes and groaned. "So good, lover. Your hand feels so good."

"I think I can find something that feels even better," she said coyly.

He brought his hand between their bodies and did some stroking of his own, dragging his fingers through her folds in long caresses, just as he knew she liked. The evidence of her arousal soon became apparent, as he rubbed little circles around her clit.

She moaned at his touch and then raised her hips and angled his cock so that he would slide into her. Once he was fully sheathed, she whimpered a little as he grabbed her hips to keep her from moving.

"I love feeling you like this—feeling every part of you," he croaked out, his voice laced with arousal and intense emotions that practically quivered from his body.

She kissed him passionately and sighed with relief as he used his hands to move her rather than to hold her stationary.

"God, you're big, Mr. Northman," she muttered.

"And you're good for my ego, Miss Stackhouse," he grunted as he increased the pace of their joining.

She dragged her hand between them and began rubbing her own clit, which was a relatively new move on her part, as she sought her own pleasure.

Eric growled at the sight. "You look so fucking erotic when you do that."

She opened her eyes and looked into his; seeing the passion there, she couldn't help but to moan. "You do it," she ordered as she took one of his hands and moved it to her clit.

He obliged, even as he felt her silky walls begin to squeeze him as she purposely contracted her inner muscles.

"_Fan_!" he yelled out as she moved the hand that wasn't holding onto him for dear life behind them so that she could cup and play with his balls.

"_Fan_!" he yelled again as he hurried the movements of his fingers against her clit and began to spill his seed into her. Thanks to his talented fingers, her own orgasm followed his within moments. She arched her back and continued to ride him slowly as the vibrations of their releases lessened.

They were both panting from their exertion in the heated sauna.

"I can't believe we've been together for more than six months," Eric observed once they'd calmed down a little.

"Getting tired of me?" Sookie asked playfully.

He shook his head as he pulled her body against his. "Never. I can't believe it because every day just seems to get better—not just the sex but everything," he said sincerely.

She pulled back so that she could look into his eyes. "I know."

They heard Ned's impatient pawing against the door.

"I should probably get a quick shower and head in," Eric said, though he didn't seem to want to move anywhere.

She smiled at him. "Go—so that you can come back. I have some work I want to do for Sam anyway."

He nodded and reluctantly pulled out of her before using the towel she'd brought in to clean her up a little and then grabbing his own towel to wrap around her. He turned off the sauna and led her out of the room where they found Ned waiting with a very displeased and impatient look on his cute face.

Both of them chuckled as they bent down to pet their kitten before Sookie picked up the feline, who immediately began to purr loudly, which signaled that he'd forgiven them for _daring_ to go somewhere without him.

* * *

Sookie plugged in her laptop at the small kitchen table and stirred the soup she was making as she waited for her computer to boot up and load the manuscript Sam had wanted her to begin copyediting over her extended holiday time. Smelling the aroma of the beef in the vegetable beef soup had been enough to cause Ned to take up his favored position in the kitchen—the area right under a human's feet. She giggled as he looked up at her hopefully.

"Sorry little one," she said as she reached down to pet him. It's just your daddy that's naughty enough to sneak you bites."

Seemingly understanding her words, Ned trotted over to his little bed in the corner of the kitchen and spun around a few times before flopping down sulkily.

Sookie giggled again and then let her eyes stay in the corner of the room for just a second or two before pulling them down to her kitten.

"Your daddy was being very clever—and awesome—when he stationed you there," Sookie said to the feline.

In fact, Eric did have a reason for putting Ned's bed where he had. Of all the rooms in their home, Sookie had found herself staring into the corner of the kitchen the most. And when she got "stuck" in the corner like that, it was still challenging for her to "get out."

Looking into the corner like that seemed to be an automatic fallback for Sookie when she was cooking, especially if she was just mindlessly tending to something. Sookie had tried to use the television or the iPod dock in the room to provide herself with distractions, but neither had worked completely. However, the presence of Ned in the corner always drew her eyes away from the blankness she would find herself moving into.

As always, Eric's presence and unspoken gestures in her life had worked to change something negative into something positive.

And she was trying to do the same for him—every single day.

To say that they had been growing as a couple since that June day when Eric was waiting for her on the bench he'd arranged to be put right in front of "their" painting in "their" gallery at the MET would have been an understatement.

And to say that they hadn't each been growing as individuals would have been an even bigger understatement.

Both Eric and Sookie continued to see Claudine every Tuesday night—like clockwork. The only exception to that had been Christmas day and the Tuesday of Thanksgiving week. That week, both of their grandmothers had invaded their home for a week, though—thankfully—they'd stayed in Pam's two guestrooms since Eric and Sookie had only one guestroom, and it was Ned's domain. However, during the days, the older women had often been at Eric and Sookie's home. But the couple didn't complain—not at all! Their grandmothers had insisted upon "playing in the kitchen," and the results had been delicious. In fact, even Pam had allowed herself to gain five pounds over the holidays.

The day after Thanksgiving, Eric and Sookie had gone out and bought their first Christmas tree. Oh—they'd each been around the festive trees before, but neither of them had ever purchased one before. And since the tree wouldn't be delivered for a couple of hours, Sookie had insisted that they drive to the closest Target—the one in East Harlem—and pick out decorations for it. Eric knew that they could have afforded much more expensive accouterments for their tree, but Sookie reminded him that Ned would probably break most of the ornaments with his rambunctious play. Plus, neither of them had ever decorated a tree before, so they didn't really know where else they could go to shop for decorations—especially if they wanted to make only one stop.

To their great credit, both Gran and Mormor had made themselves scarce so that Sookie and Eric could decorate their tree by themselves. The two matriarchs had kept to the kitchen—gossiping, cooking more delicious food, and planning a trip to New Orleans—while Eric and Sookie had learned how to trim a tree together, though they certainly had Ned's "participation" during the process. The little kitten, of course, thought that the whole operation was just for his benefit. And he became an expert tree climber almost immediately. Eric and Sookie had just shrugged it off and decided to let their kitten have his fun, though they were determined not to let him play with his new "toy" when the lights were turned on—even if that meant rarely turning them on.

But—just in case—one of the tree "accessories" was a nice, new fire extinguisher.

Because their grandmothers were both present, Eric and Sookie had decided to have their family Christmas on the Saturday after Thanksgiving since the two matriarchs were leaving the next day and they would not see them for Christmas since Mormor would be traveling with some friends and Gran would be spending Christmas with Hadley that year.

Eric and Sookie had opted to exchange their main gifts that day too, leaving only stockings for each other on Christmas day. And Sookie had insisted on a maximum dollar amount to keep Eric from filling her stocking with jewels, though he'd been good about not spending excess money on her so far in their relationship.

Sookie smiled as she thought of the festive "family" gathering they'd had on that Saturday after Thanksgiving. Eric and she had invited Henry, Blake, Thalia, her kids, Pam, Amelia, and Bobby. It was just as well that Thalia's kids were spending the weekend with their paternal grandparents, given Pam's cringing at the mention of what she called the "teacup humans" attending. And—of course—Mormor and Gran had spent the entire day in the kitchen. Gran had made chicken and dumplings, while Mormor had made _köttsoppa med klimp_, which was a hearty soup with beef and vegetables and a very different kind of dumplings. The grandmothers had also made an array of desserts and homemade breads, and no one had left hungry.

After dinner and a little visiting, Henry, Blake, and Thalia had said their goodbyes, and the others had exchanged gifts. Sookie smiled at the memory of seeing Eric's face light up at the sight of five gifts piled in front of him. Of course, Sookie's five gifts were a record number for her as well.

She'd gotten a pretty dress, which had probably cost way too much, from Pam. And Amelia had given her a gift certificate to a spa. Bobby had given her a pair of boots she could wear in the snow. Gran had gifted her a beautiful pair of gloves and a hat that she'd knitted, while Elsa had brought Sookie an old locket that had belonged to her own mother. When Sookie had tried to insist that Pam should have the locket, Pam had just clucked at the piece and said that she had many things passed on from Mormor already, and since Sookie was to be part of the family, she should have the necklace.

Sookie smiled and lovingly put her hand on the locket hanging around her neck. It was beautiful and unique—shaped like a square—and inside, she had put a picture of Eric; her "secret love" had been living right against her heart ever since she'd received the locket.

Eric had given Sookie a coat, which was a present with which Sookie had immediately fallen in love. The coat was a deep red color, and it was both stylish and warm. She could tell that it had been expensive, but it was also exactly what she'd needed.

By far, the most enjoyable part of their "pre-Christmas" for Sookie had been watching Eric opening and enjoying each of his gifts. Bobby and Eric had exchanged cigars and scotch, which seemed to be the norm for them. From Pam and Amelia, Eric had gotten an Xbox and several games which had immediately found a home in the "man cave," and Eric had enjoyed many an hour killing a zombie or two since then. Even Sookie had found that she enjoyed playing the Xbox with Eric, especially since the prizes for winning—and the "punishments" for losing—generally included _extremely_ enjoyable things.

Gran had given Eric an afghan that she had crocheted—an afghan which Eric had dubbed the ugliest thing he'd ever seen later that night when he was alone with Sookie. Ugly or not, however, he wrapped it around himself every day when he went out to enjoy his coffee on the terrace. And the afghan had a place of honor in their bedroom.

From Mormor, Eric had gotten a framed blueprint of the lake house, which had been drawn by his morfar. Upon receiving it, he'd squeezed his mormor so tight that Sookie thought the elderly woman would break until—that is—Sookie noticed that Mormor was hugging him back just as tightly.

Sookie's main gift to Eric had been difficult for her to come up with. After all, what did one get for a man who could buy practically anything he wanted? In the end, she'd gotten him "an experience." She knew that Eric loved horses from his grade school days when he'd played polo and helped tend to the horses in the stables, and she'd arranged for a three-day vacation for them to upstate New York in the spring. Their lodging would be a cute bed and breakfast, but the best part was that the B&B was on a ranch, which boasted a variety of horses for both beginners and experts. Eric had been—much to Sookie's relief—over the moon about the gift and had shown his appreciation to her that night.

Several times, in fact.

All in all, the previous months spent with Eric had been better than any heaven Sookie could ever imagine, and their Christmas had been lovely too, despite the fact that Eric had had to spend his requisite time at Appius's house that day. Not surprisingly, there had been no gifts for him there, except for a bright red scarf from Gracie. Of course, Eric had taken all the "required" gifts—including the same one that he always took for Appius. Eric had told her once about his ancestor's pen inside the always carefully wrapped box. And she had witnessed it being returned to him by Markus twice now. Beyond that, Sookie had noticed that Eric had taken the time to choose each of his siblings' gifts very carefully, even Nora's.

Eric had been both looking forward to and dreading Christmas with his family for more than a month. But mostly, he'd regretted that Sookie hadn't been able to go along. He couldn't wait until he could introduce her to all of his younger siblings, just as Sookie couldn't wait to meet them; however, both Eric and Sookie knew that continued secrecy was for the best.

On Christmas, Eric had spent only four hours at Appius's home—from 10:00 a.m. to around 2:00 p.m. Most of that time had been passed happily. Eric had gotten to visit with Gracie, and a now-talking A.J. had spent the greater part of the morning crawling all over him and then showing him every one of his gifts before asking Eric to help him construct things out of his new blocks. Eric had delighted in his time with his youngest two siblings. Around noon, Alexei had arrived from the airport, and—though his younger brother had asked him not to speak about his fledgling acting pursuits in front of the rest of the family—Alexei and Eric had an easy, enjoyable conversation during their Christmas dinner.

Unfortunately, the day had also included a "meeting" with Appius—as if the Northman patriarch had seen that Eric was happy and had the compulsion to take that happiness away from him. Eric had told Sookie about the litany of his shortcomings that Appius had spewed out during the half-hour meeting in his office; that "gift" had been followed up by Appius ordering Eric to put together a comprehensive report detailing the progress with China, a report he was required to present for scrutiny. After that, Appius had basically "dismissed" Eric, not just from the office, but from the house. And as Eric was saying his hurried goodbyes to his siblings and giving his apologies for his earlier-than-usual exit, Appius was spouting off about Eric needing to leave because he'd "messed up a deal."

Sookie sighed as she took out ingredients for a batch of chocolate chip cookies, which were Eric's favorite. Appius's need to ruin Eric's holiday and his vacation was the reason why Eric had spent twelve hours working the day before and the reason that he was gone now. So she felt her man deserved the treat.

As she whipped the butter, she thought about just how much she wanted to kick Appius's ass. That compulsion in her was growing by the day as she became more and more aware of all the "little things" that Appius did to undermine and torment his eldest son.

However, as Sookie looked at the mostly eaten loaf of banana bread on the counter, she couldn't help but to smile a little. Despite Appius's "order" and all the work it would entail for him, Eric had still snuck back to the kitchen to pass along little gifts to Margaret and Markus after Appius had "dismissed" him. Their daughter Olivia, who was spending Christmas with her parents, had been working in Northman Publishing's accounting office since September, and the four of them had chatted for ten minutes or so before Eric left through the kitchen entrance. And—of course—Eric had come home with a gift of food from Margaret.

Though Eric hadn't told his father's cook and butler about his relationship with Sookie, Margaret—using what Eric called her sixth-sense—had pointed out that Eric seemed even happier than he had in June when she'd last seen him.

Sookie smiled a little wider. Knowing that she had added to Eric's happiness made her happy—very happy.

Of course, it wouldn't do for Olivia to know about Sookie and Eric either, but Sookie had made a point to seek out the new employee and to befriend her. Holly and Sookie now often had lunch with Olivia and some others from the accounting department. Their company was much better than Arlene, Dawn, and Maudette's. Sookie had been proud of the fact that she'd succeeded in reaching out to someone and forming a new friendship. And nobody in the circle of friends that she'd made at work or at the MET or at Carmichael Tower looked at her as if she were "odd."

They all just looked at her as if she were "Sookie."

Sookie smiled at that thought. So much had changed throughout the previous two years. But it had all started with that little spark of connection she had felt when she saw Eric at her first NP party.

In a strange way, Sookie was glad that she'd not "met" Eric officially the first time she saw him. The additional year had given her some time to move herself forward—to learn that _she_ could be strong on her own and make healing changes in her life. Claudine had been helping her to love and to accept herself even before Eric gave her his love.

Sookie nodded, knowing that everything had happened in the "right" order. Had she not begun loving herself first, then she would have never trusted Eric's love. And—had she not begun understanding her own worth first, she would have counted on Eric to provide her with self-worth. And that wouldn't have worked for either of them—not in the long term. She understood well that she still had a long way to go in order to overcome the damage that had been done to her by Michelle, but she also knew that she was well along the path.

And that thought made her proud.

What made her even prouder was that Eric had been making similar progress when it came to Appius.

She grinned as she looked at her and Eric's stretching kitten. Since Christmas had fallen on a Tuesday that year, most of the employees at Northman Publishing had been allowed to take a very long weekend; in fact, the copy editing department had closed down at noon on December 21, and most employees hadn't returned to work until the day before, Wednesday, December 26. Sookie and Eric had decided to take even more time off—since Sam continued to hound her about vacation days and Eric's department truly did run like a well-oiled machine.

Other than his meeting with his father that day, Eric had planned to work from home until Sookie's own return date, which was January 2. Meanwhile, Sookie had brought home a project she'd been working on—a new and very long novel written by one of the publishing house's most successful authors. Unfortunately, the writer was notorious for his error-filled manuscripts and for his insistence that his writing was immaculate—even though it clearly wasn't. However, in truth, Sookie didn't mind the project, and she was well-ahead of her deadline; thus, she'd spent most of her vacation cooking or reading or playing with Ned. And—when Eric hadn't been working—she'd enjoyed "play time" with him too.

Sookie smiled as she mixed the cookie dough. Indeed, they'd enjoyed _a lot_ of "play time."

* * *

**A/N: Well I hope that you didn't mind this transitional chapter. Action will pick up in the next chapter as Eric meets with Appius, and—from there—the drama will be ratcheted up. We are getting closer and closer to where we started in chapter one of **_**Comfortably Numb**_**. **

**This will be the last chapter for this story this week. I'll move back to this story after I spend a week on **_**Uninvited**_**. Thanks for your patience. **

**Best, **

**Kat**

**Check out my blog if you want to see pictures. (californiakat1564 . wordpress . com). **


	7. Chapter 7: Coming Through in Waves

**Chapter 07: Coming Through in Waves**

_**There is no pain you are receding**_

_**A distant ship's smoke on the horizon**_

_**You are only coming through in waves**_

_**Your lips move**_

_**But I can't hear what you're saying—Pink Floyd, "Comfortably Numb"**_

Eric had decided to take a taxi to the office so that he could look over his report about NP's partnership with Guangzhou Press one last time. Luckily, Liang and Guo had been willing to help him move a few publications along a bit more quickly than previously planned, and the government grant had come through to offset the price of printing most of the books. Eric hoped that these things would appease Appius; however, the realist in him knew that his father would find plenty of things to criticize.

Of course, Eric knew that the contract he'd signed with Appius would prevent the older man from interfering with his division too much, especially given the success of that division. But that didn't mean that Appius wouldn't do all he could to make Eric's life miserable for the next hour or two.

Eric ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes.

"Hard day?" his taxi driver asked in a thick accent that sounded Indian.

"Not so far," Eric answered congenially. "But I expect the next few hours to be difficult."

The driver nodded and then went back to weaving in and out of traffic. Eric made a note of the driver's name. He had a couple particular drivers in town that he always called first if he needed a taxi. Months before, Eric had stopped driving his car to work, given the fact that he feared Appius might try to place some kind of surveillance device on it too. Thalia had checked the vehicle over thoroughly more than once, but Eric didn't want to take any chances.

Plus, the taxi drivers he used seemed to count on him tipping well, and he counted on them to offer the perfect mix of conversation, silence, and efficiency. With the holidays, neither of his usual taxi drivers had been available that morning, and he was thankful that he'd lucked out with someone who didn't want to carry on a lengthy conversation.

He sat back and closed his eyes. He couldn't help the little smile that tugged on his lips as he recalled his Christmas night with Sookie. Despite the untimely work Appius had given him to do, Eric hadn't let it ruin his and Sookie's first Christmas together. As they'd cooked their dinner together, they'd discussed Eric's time at Appius's house earlier that day, getting the bad parts out of the way first—before dropping the subject of Appius entirely and focusing on Eric's time with his brothers and sisters.

Then they'd eaten in the kitchen before exchanging stockings by the fireplace in the "man-cave." The smile on Eric's lips etched deeper into his face. It had been the first stocking that he remembered receiving, and Sookie had filled it to the brim.

She'd given him both practical things and fun things. The practical had included the beautiful amber cufflinks he was wearing even then. She'd also gotten him a protective case for his phone—something called an "otter box"—so that no more "breaking incidents" would occur. She'd added a few Xbox games and some books they'd discussed reading together. However, the highlight had been something red and lacy, which Sookie modeled for him—while she was wearing a Santa hat and red high heels. The thought of her in that outfit made him have to adjust himself a bit.

Of course, the best Christmas present had been what was inside of that negligee. And it hadn't even been the sex that he got that night—though it had been pretty damned epic—that had been the best thing. It had been _everything_ that came in the package called Sookie. And—because of her—he'd "felt" Christmas for the first time.

For his part, Eric had had a lot of fun filling Sookie's stocking. Having learned of Sookie's love for scarves—both for warmth and to accent an outfit—he had gotten Sookie two for her stocking. One was a hand-painted silk scarf in various shades of blue, which reminded Eric of Sookie's eyes. The other was a soft cashmere scarf which would complement her new coat. He'd added a Kindle, which had earned him many kisses. He'd kept the jewelry that he gave her to a minimum so that he wouldn't get into too much trouble, but—in the museum one day—he'd discovered her love of yellow gems, so he'd gotten her a pair of yellow diamond drop earrings that were relatively modest in their karat count. Of course, those drew one of Sookie's "looks," but he realized that he wasn't in too much trouble when he got several kisses for the earrings too.

His smile broadened again. She'd modeled those earrings for him just the night before. And, given the fact that he had been weary from spending all day on the report now in his hands, seeing her in that jewelry—and nothing else—had certainly been a treat!

"Here we are, sir," the taxi driver said, tearing Eric from his reverie as he came to a quick stop in front of Northman Tower. Eric handed the driver the fare plus a good tip and then steeled himself mentally as he went into the building to face Appius.

Eric had been asked to arrive at noon, which was a common time for his meetings with Appius. Appius enjoyed eating during his meetings with Eric. He always ate at a leisurely pace—looking only half interested as he thumbed through whatever report he was requiring from Eric that day.

Of course, Eric was never asked to partake in any food. In fact, Appius always began their meetings with the same words: "I assume you've already eaten."

It was just one more thing that made Appius an ass in Eric's eyes—another tactic that he'd used to hurt Eric. Now—after months with Sookie and months in therapy with Claudine—Eric had learned not to allow Appius's small machinations to affect him. After all, in the grand scheme of things—the scheme that included only Sookie and their true "family"—Appius no longer mattered.

Eric took a deep breath as he studied the others in Appius's office.

That day, Neave, Lochlan, and Andre were also attending the meeting, and they all scoured through Eric's report as he sat and waited patiently for the inevitable berating to begin. Thankfully, he had his own private copyeditor at home, so he knew there were no typos in the quickly-constructed report.

Fifty-five minutes after Eric had arrived, Appius had a list of things for him to "deal with."

As he always did, Eric bore the brunt of Appius's derisive criticism with forbearance and somehow kept his tone even and matter-of-fact when answering questions.

But Eric's cool was broken when his phone chimed. As always, Eric had set his iPhone to be silent during his meeting with Appius; however, there was one exception who could interrupt him any time: Sookie. Of course, Eric always kept her informed of when he was meeting with Appius, and she had never contacted him during those times. But he felt better knowing that she _could_—if she ever really needed to.

He took a deep breath. He'd left her only ninety minutes before and knew that she wouldn't have contacted him unless it was an emergency.

His phone chimed a second time.

"I hope we aren't keeping you from something _you_ interpret as more important," Appius sneered.

Eric took in his father's baleful glare and made a quick decision. In a choice between Sookie and Appius, there would only ever be one option. He reached into his pocket for his phone.

There were two texts from her.

The first one broke his heart just as it must have broken Sookie's as she'd typed it: "Gran's had a massive heart attack and isn't expected to live. The doctors told me to come as fast as I could."

The second read, "A flight leaves from LaGuardia in eighty minutes."

As he was reading that message, he received a third. "Come later."

Eric found that he was already on his feet and moving toward the door. There was no way that he was going to wait; if Sookie was leaving town in eighty minutes, he would be too.

"Where the fuck are you going?" Appius stormed. "This meeting is _not_ over!"

"Yes it is," Eric said.

"I said—this meeting is not over until _I_ say it is!" Appius snarled.

Eric turned around to face the man whose DNA made up half of his own. "You're welcome to berate and to critique me later, Father. But for now, we're done here." Eric barely registered the surprise on Appius's face before he left the office and sprinted to the elevator, his phone already in his hand. He texted Bobby for a ride and was happy when his friend indicated that he was only five minutes away. Eric knew that if there was _anyone_ in Manhattan who could get him to LaGuardia through traffic, it was Bobby.

As soon as he was outside the building and away from its "ears," he called Sookie.

"Eric," she said his name like a prayer when she answered. "Gran—she's dying."

Eric could tell that Sookie was obviously trying to hold herself together, but was having a difficult time doing so.

"I have to go to Louisiana," she said.

"I know. Me too," he replied.

He heard something that sounded like a cross between a sigh and a sob from her. "You're coming?"

"Of course, min älskade. Do you know the flight number?"

He heard her sobbing softly, and then he heard Pam's voice on the line.

"Eric," Pam said in a strained tone, "Blake's driving us over to LaGuardia with his siren on so that Sookie can be sure to make the flight. It's United 1748. It leaves at 3:05 p.m. and connects in Atlanta. It'll have Sookie in Shreveport in seven and a half hours. It was the shortest duration I could find," she almost growled.

"How many tickets did you get?" Eric asked, even as Bobby pulled up to the curb and Eric quickly got into the car.

"Two," Pam said. "Sookie told me to hold off on getting you one since you were in your meeting, but I didn't listen." Her voice lowered. "She only texted you when I threatened to take the phone from her and do it myself."

Eric closed his eyes. It was like Sookie—so like her—to think of him before herself, even in a time of tragedy, but he wasn't going to let her do that. It was his job to think of her first—to put _her_ first. Always. And he was going to do that job in any way he could.

Pam went on. "I packed you a small bag, and I got you a ticket—if you can get to LaGuardia on time."

Eric held on as Bobby wove his way around the street. "I'll be there," he said. "Bobby's driving me. Tell Sookie that I'll see her soon."

"Okay," Pam said as he disconnected the call.

"Sookie okay?" Bobby asked, sensing that something was very wrong.

"No," Eric responded. "It's Gran. She's had a massive heart attack." He looked at his friend. "The doctors don't think she's going to make it."

"Shit," Bobby said with a sigh. He glanced in his rearview mirror.

"Is he back there?" Eric asked. He'd seen one of the Berts following them from NP.

Bobby shook his head. "Not any more. The Bert was on us longer than I would have expected though. They're getting a little better."

"But you lost him?" Eric asked to make sure.

"Oh yeah," Bobby said with a hint of a smirk on his face. "A little better doesn't mean that they're any good."

"Does your great-uncle still have his Leer Jet at LaGuardia?" Eric asked pensively. "The commercial flight won't put us at the hospital for more than nine hours from now," he said worriedly. "I'm afraid that won't be enough time."

"Uncle Niall—yeah. And—before you ask—yes."

Bobby whipped out his phone and made a call, even as he continued to zigzag through the traffic with ease. Within minutes, Eric was calling back Pam and telling her that there was a change of plans and that Niall's private plane could take them straight to Shreveport and that it could be wheels up within fifteen minutes of his and Sookie's arrival.

When Eric got off the phone with his sister, he looked at Bobby.

"Thank you," Eric said.

"Don't mention it. I'm just glad that Uncle Niall keeps his employees on retainer so that he can justify giving them fulltime salaries. The pilot and copilot live only ten minutes from LaGuardia and will beat us there." Bobby smiled. "They're a husband and wife team. The jet is being prepped right now; there won't be a stewardess, but who the fuck cares."

"Thanks," Eric said again. "And please thank Niall too."

Bobby shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Uncle Niall hardly ever uses the plane anymore, and he's told me and the Claudes that we can use it whenever we want."

Eric nodded and closed his eyes. He wished he could send Sookie his strength in that moment—wished it with every fiber of his being. But he couldn't.

"We'll be there soon," Bobby said, patting Eric's forearm. He didn't say anything else, but Eric could feel the car speed up a little, though he kept his eyes closed. In that moment, Eric appreciated Bobby more than ever before.

As it turned out, due to his skillful—and probably highly illegal—driving, Bobby was able to beat Blake to LaGuardia's hangars for private planes by about five minutes. Thus, by the time Eric saw Blake's car pull up, the pilot had already filed their emergency flight plan, and Bobby had already convinced Eric that it would be best if he came too. Bobby had grabbed his duffle bag, which held his gym clothes, and was talking to the copilot when Blake pulled up next to a pacing Eric.

Moments later, Eric was doing exactly what his body had been aching to do for the last thirty-three minutes: holding his Sookie.

* * *

_Fifty minutes earlier_

Sookie was taking the last batch of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven when her cell phone rang? Thinking it was likely Amelia or Claudine, she answered without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Is this Sookie Stackhouse?" came a female voice she didn't recognize.

"Yes? Can I ask who's calling?"

There was a sigh. "My name's Halleigh Robinson, and I'm a nurse at the LSU Medical Center in Shreveport."

Immediately, Sookie's mind began to move a mile a minute. "Gran," she whispered.

"Yes," the compassionate voice confirmed. "Your grandmother, Adele Stackhouse, is my patient."

"What happened?"

"Adele called 9-1-1 early this morning—around 4:00 a.m. An ambulance was dispatched immediately, but given the woman's rural location, it took ten minutes to reach her." There was another sigh. "By the time paramedics got there, Adele's condition was critical; she'd suffered a massive heart attack."

"Oh my God," Sookie said, her hand shaking so much that she could barely hold the phone.

Halleigh went on. "The ambulance brought her straight to LSU Med since the hospital in Monroe doesn't have the facilities to treat her. The trip to Shreveport took forty minutes, and your grandmother's heart stopped two times along the way, but the paramedics were able to restart it. Immediately upon getting to the hospital, Adele was rushed to emergency surgery, but she was too weak for the length of procedure that was needed to make all the necessary repairs." She paused. "But they stabilized her the best they could. She's in ICU right now, and if Adele improves, her doctors are gonna try the surgery again in 24 hours."

"So she's alive?" Sookie asked, with a flicker of hope in her voice.

"Yes," Halleigh responded. "I'm Adele's primary nurse in the ICU, and I recognized the name 'Stackhouse' since I've been dating a police officer from Bon Temps. I called my boyfriend, Andy Bellefleur, and he—in turn—called Jason Stackhouse. Is that your brother?"

"Yes," Sookie whispered.

"Well. He arrived with his mother—your mother—right as Adele was getting out of surgery." Halleigh's tone was contrite as she went on. "I apologize for not calling you sooner, Sookie, but I figured your family would take care of all the necessary notifications. But then Adele woke up for a little while about fifteen minutes ago, and she asked for you. She even gave me your phone number." She paused. "Adele asked that I call you personally and not leave it up to your brother."

"Thank you," Sookie said weakly, even as she sank down to the kitchen floor. Immediately Ned was next to her, rubbing her free hand and trying to offer comfort. Sookie gathered him onto her lap, thankful for his warmth.

"Your grandmother's very weak, but it's obvious that she's hanging on for something," Halleigh said softly. "I think she's hanging on to see you."

Sookie let out a sob. "Is she going to die?" she asked.

Halleigh sighed. "The doctor will tell you more, but," she paused, "I really think you need to get here as soon as you can, Sookie. She's stable—for now—but even if she's strong enough for the surgery tomorrow, it's very dangerous."

Sookie began to weep outright, and it was at that moment that Pam walked into the room, a pizza in hand. Since Eric had his meeting, the two had planned to eat lunch and watch a chick flick.

"Sookie!" Pam gasped, quickly putting the pizza down on the counter and crouching next to her friend. "What's wrong?"

Sookie couldn't speak, so she handed Pam the phone.

"Who's this?" Pam asked.

As Halleigh relayed the information to Pam about Gran, tears began to gather in Pam's eyes, but she wiped them away before they fell.

"What's the prognosis?" she asked.

There was a pause.

"I understand," Pam said. "If Adele wakes up again, tell her that Sookie is on her way—just as quickly as possible."

* * *

Pam felt as if she'd been hit in the stomach. Adele, the vibrant, beautiful woman who had become like a third grandmother to her, would likely be dead within the next twenty-four hours. In disbelief, she stared at the phone for a moment and then took in the form of her sobbing friend.

Pam shook her head, promising herself that she would call Amelia and cry for her loved one as soon as she got Sookie on a plane, preferably with her brother.

"I'll call Eric," she said, beginning to dial Sookie's phone.

"No!" Sookie said quickly. "His meeting—with Appius."

"Sookie," Pam said softly, "you need him, and he'd want to be with you."

"No," Sookie cried out, taking the phone from her. "Please." She looked up at Pam. "Can you help me get tickets? I don't think I can . . . ." Her voice trailed off.

"Don't worry, Sookie," Pam assured. She pulled out her own phone and immediately called Henry. After giving him a thirty second version of what was happening and asking if someone could give them a ride to the airport once they made arrangements, she called an old girlfriend, who was a travel agent.

Soon—two tickets to Shreveport via Atlanta were purchased for Sookie and Eric.

Next, Pam texted Bobby, telling him to be ready to pick up Eric from NP if he called and promising him details later.

All Sookie wanted to do was to collapse into Eric's arms, but—knowing where he was—she couldn't let herself call him. So she concentrated on staying on her feet as Pam whirled around her making plans and packing bags. Soon after, Henry and Blake joined Pam. And before Sookie knew it, she was in Blake's car, speeding toward LaGuardia.

She concentrated on remaining numb; it was either that or fall apart.

"Text Eric!" Pam ordered, breaking Sookie out of her trance-like state.

"I can't," she whimpered.

"Either you do it, or I will," Pam warned.

"I can't," Sookie repeated, her expression a mixture of stubbornness and despair.

Pam's voice was softer. "Eric might be out of his meeting already. And—either way—he'd want to know as soon as possible. He loves Gran too. Just do it—please. My call won't go through if he's in a meeting."

"Okay," Sookie responded wearily. She barely contained her tears as she typed three messages into the phone. The first alerted Eric to the fact that Gran was likely dying. The second informed him that she was taking off as soon as she could from LaGuardia. The third asked him to come later if he could.

Her phone ringing again shook Sookie to the very core. She feared it might be the nurse—telling her Gran had died—but seeing Eric's number, her heart leapt.

For all the money in the world, she couldn't have retold Eric's words to her, but as soon as she heard his voice, she suddenly "felt" again and knew that if she could just hold on for a little while longer, he would take care of her and everything else.

When she could no longer talk, Pam took the phone, and Sookie closed her eyes. She'd picked up only one thing from her conversation with Eric: he was coming.

Sookie felt Pam's hand take hers, and she was grateful for the comfort.

"Ned," Sookie said, trying to think about practical things for a moment.

"Don't worry. Amelia is going over to your house now. She'll check on Ned. I'll even take him for a while if need be."

Sookie opened her eyes and looked at Pam skeptically.

"What?" Pam asked with a smirk. "It's not like I'd kill him or anything. I'll just make sure he doesn't get into my closet."

Sookie found herself smiling a little and marveled at the fact that she could still do that. "Thank you, Pam."

Pam squeezed her hand.

Sookie gave her friend a little nod and then closed her eyes again. She concentrated on the sound of the siren in Blake's unmarked police car. No one spoke for a little while—until Pam answered Eric's call and then relayed the information about the changed flight plans.

Sookie said a prayer of thanksgiving for both Eric and Bobby. Because they'd be able to take Bobby's great-uncle's jet, Eric and she would be in Shreveport in fewer than four hours, rather than almost nine. Something inside of Sookie told her that she might not be able to spare the five hours that taking the commercial flight would have added onto her trip.

Despite that sobering thought, Sookie steeled herself, telling herself that she needed to hold it together for just a few more minutes—until she could collapse into Eric. Thankfully, Blake got them through the security gate that led to the hangar quickly, and Sookie let out a deep sigh of relief as she saw the man that she loved already waiting for her.

And then—in the next moment—he was holding her, and then holding her up, and then picking her up.

"I have you," he promised. "I have you."

She believed him.

* * *

"Well—where the fuck is he!" Appius demanded.

"I lost him," Sigebert admitted.

"Find him!" Appius yelled, before hanging up the phone.

"I need to know why he left here like he did," Appius seethed in Andre's direction. "He looked like someone had died." Appius raked his fingers through his hair in a jerking motion. "I didn't think that he cared about _anything_ that much—except for maybe that cunt, Elsa Larsson!"

Andre smiled. "Maybe she died."

"I only hope for such luck!" Appius sneered. "Whatever it was upset him more than I've seen him upset since he was a fucking child! And I want to know if I can use it against him!"

Andre nodded. "Don't worry, my love," he said as he took Appius's hand in his. "I'll find out what he's up to."

Appius leaned into his lover and allowed himself to be comforted in Andre's embrace for a moment before he stood up straight again and walked over to the window. He took in the view he'd seen thousands of times—the little kingdom he'd carved out for himself.

He contemplated what he'd just seen from his eldest son. From the time he was eight or so, Eric had been a stoic son of a bitch—harder for Appius to rattle than anyone he'd ever come into contact with. But Appius still knew how to pull Eric's strings to the point where he'd get a reaction most of the time.

However—he had to hand it to Eric. The boy knew how to keep his emotions close to the vest. The six-year-old child who'd cried in his room when he came home for the winter holiday was long gone, though Appius still hoped to see more of his son's tears. He'd just not found the perfect formula for eliciting them in a very long time—too long.

But—then again—he'd never seen Eric as he'd been today. _Never_ in the six years Eric had been working at Northman's Publishing had he taken a call or even checked his phone in Appius's presence. But today, three texts had sent him shooting out the door.

Appius had watched the surveillance footage of Eric literally sprinting through the building. And then Eric's bastard lawyer Burnham had picked him up.

Appius closed his eyes and remembered Eric's look as he'd checked his phone. It had started with shock, but immediately had transformed to concern—concern with a touch of grief. That made Appius doubt that Eric's maternal grandmother had died. No. Eric's had been a look of worrying and planning. It had been a look of powerlessness even amidst the mustering of strength. It had been a look of longing and suffering.

But on someone else's behalf.

Appius knew that look. He'd seen it in the mirror every single day when his beloved Stella lay dying of cancer.

He turned around and faced Andre. "Eric's in love," Appius said with certainty. "Find out with whom—because I _know_ that it's not Isabel or Amelia. Call in Franklin Mott to help."

Andre nodded sinisterly as he dialed his phone.

* * *

**A/N: Well—I'm back! Thanks for all the continued support of this story! **

**That said, I probably need to duck. I'm sorry about what I'm doing to Gran; I really am. I didn't set out to do it. It was my muse (the evil b*tch). I love Gran too, but this is the story that came out of me. **

**I'm going to try to get you two more chapters this week. As before, I have a stack of papers to grade, and my carpal tunnel is threatening to flare up, so we'll see. But two more is my goal.**

**Best,**

**Kat**

**P.S. I hope you don't hate me too much.**


	8. Chapter 8: Venom and Antivenom

**Chapter 08: Venom and Antivenom**

Thankfully, Niall's jet had couch seating in one area, so Eric was able to keep Sookie cradled to him throughout the flight. He rocked her and then sang to her in Swedish—a lullaby that his mormor had once told him that his mother used to sing to him.

Eric couldn't actually remember his mother singing it, nor did he recall the words or tune from his memories. But—after his mormor had told him about it—he'd made a point of memorizing the lullaby nonetheless.

Two hours after takeoff, Sookie's sobbing for the woman who had literally saved her from a life of hell stopped as she fell asleep in Eric's embrace

Only then, did Eric let himself crumble a little. He too owed Adele Stackhouse—owed her everything. Without her, the woman in his arms would have likely never escaped her mother's maliciousness. And—eventually—she would have broken. She would have never come to New York. He would have never seen her—met her. And he—just like her—would have been broken. No—he would have _remained_ broken.

Bobby had been on the phone almost the entire time they'd been flying and had stayed near the front of the aircraft in order to give Eric and Sookie as much privacy as possible, but when he saw that Sookie had fallen asleep, he came back to sit on the couch opposite the couple.

He looked at the sleeping woman in his friend's embrace and took a deep breath before speaking. "I have a car waiting for us when we land."

Eric nodded. "I assume you've been in contact with the hospital?" he asked quietly.

Bobby nodded. "It doesn't look good. I managed to talk at length to one of Adele's doctors by pretending to be you."

Eric looked at him in question.

"I figured they'd be more likely to discuss things with her granddaughter's fiancé than with her granddaughter's fiancé's friend."

Eric nodded in acknowledgement. "What did they tell you?"

"Her cardiologist thinks that she's suffered at least two heart attacks since early this morning—one of them while on the way to the hospital. The first one was massive, and the second likely sealed her fate," Bobby added gravely. "When they tried surgery, they were only able to patch her up a little bit before they had to get out. She was just too weak." He shook his head dejectedly. "The doctor told me that they will try taking her back to surgery if she survives the next twenty four hours, but . . . ."

"But they don't think that's going to happen," Eric finished, letting the harsh truth out into the cabin of the plane as he continued to rock the sleeping form of his beloved.

"No," Bobby said softly, "they don't. After getting off the phone with the doctor, I contacted the nurse Sookie spoke to—Halleigh Robinson. She was more," he paused, "forthcoming and direct than the doctor could be. She told me that in her experience, Adele is too far gone to make a recovery. She reiterated that we needed to hurry, but that Adele seems to be tenaciously hanging on for Sookie. I've called in a few favors to get us a police escort to the hospital."

Eric sighed. "We _will_ get there in time. We have to. _Please_," he said as if his words were a prayer. "Sookie deserves to say her goodbyes to Gran."

Bobby nodded and then tensed. "Halleigh told me that Adele requested and then signed a DNR the last time she was conscious."

"A 'do not resuscitate order,'" Eric sighed.

"Yes. Halleigh said that Adele seems to have realized and accepted the likelihood that her heart won't last the night, and she doesn't want to prolong things with a ventilator," Bobby said in barely a whisper, even as he kept an eye on Sookie to make sure she was still asleep.

Eric closed his eyes and let out a long breath. "Are her doctors competent? Would others be better able to treat her?" he asked.

"I contacted Niall, and he used his connections to check out her doctors," Bobby said with a sigh of his own. "Adele's lead cardiologist is well-respected and actually specializes in geriatric cases. According to Niall, there are more prominent doctors in the country, but not many better." He paused. "After I contacted him, Niall called Adele's cardiologist too. He believes that everything humanly possible is being done for Adele, given her condition and age."

As Eric opened his eyes, a tear fell from one of them. "Will you thank Niall for his help?"

"I will," Bobby said. "But he was glad to do it."

Eric nodded in acknowledgment. He'd only met Niall a couple of times and was grateful to Bobby's great-uncle for using his connections in the medical field to give Sookie and him peace of mind. Eric wanted—no needed—to be able to tell Sookie that Adele's doctors were among the best and had done everything possible for her grandmother—for Gran.

"There's more," Bobby said, shifting in his chair uncomfortably.

"Tell me," Eric requested.

"Halleigh said that Sookie's brother overheard Adele asking for her granddaughter, and he and Sookie's mother have gotten wind that Sookie's on her way. According to Halleigh, they are trying to get Sookie barred from seeing Adele."

"They can't do that," Eric growled softly.

Bobby sighed. "Halleigh said that they told the hospital administrator that Sookie's the one who broke her grandmother's heart by leaving town. They fed the administrator some bullshit story that seeing Sookie would just upset Adele more."

"Did the administrator buy it?"

"Halleigh overheard Michelle and Jason talking to the administrator and stepped in. She argued that Adele had clearly asked for Sookie and had even provided her with a telephone number during her first lucid state after surgery, and—since then—Adele has asked for Sookie whenever she awakens, though Adele's still very groggy. The administrator wants to speak with Sookie before letting her see Adele, but Halleigh has indicated that she will try to help us no matter what—that she'll even sneak Sookie in if that's what it takes."

Eric sighed deeply. "That's something, at least. Wait—do we know who Gran's lawyer is?"

Bobby closed his eyes and went through his memory banks. One of the reasons why he was so good at what he did was his photographic memory. "Sid Matt Lancaster was the name on Adele's husband's Will."

"Get in touch with him," Eric whispered. "If I know Adele, she's made Sookie the executrix of her Will. If we can get that information to the hospital administrator, we should have no problems getting Sookie in. I want this cleared up _before_ we get there if possible. And I want Sookie to be able to see Gran without her brother or her sorry excuse for a mother in the room."

Bobby nodded. "I'll make it happen, Eric." He was silent for a moment. "After you get her through this, you and I are going to have to talk about today. It will likely be a game-changer." He sighed. "I don't think that Appius could be tracking us here, but if I know him, he won't rest until he finds out what rattled you. He'll want to exploit it."

"I know," Eric said in a tortured voice. "But I _had_ to get to her as soon as I found out about Gran."

"I know," Bobby reassured. "And—for what it's worth—I think you did the right thing by leaving that meeting. But there may be consequences."

"I can't think about that right now."

"Well—that's why you have me," Bobby replied, getting up and moving back to the front of the plane so that he could get to work on controlling the damage that either Michelle Stackhouse or Appius Northman might try to do.

* * *

Eric held onto Sookie tightly as he led her down the hall toward the hospital's ICU. From the helpful nurse to whom Bobby had been speaking, he knew that they would have to check in at a desk in order to progress to Adele's room; he also knew that there was a waiting room by that desk. And that was where they would likely encounter Michelle and Jason Stackhouse.

Though Eric had tried to prepare Sookie for the fact that her mother would probably be in that waiting room, he still felt her stiffen and then shake when she saw the woman who Eric knew immediately was her mother.

Michelle Stackhouse was the kind of woman who looked older than her real age, which Eric knew to be around fifty. She was also the kind of woman who'd had what the New York elite called "work done by the wrong doctor." There was nothing that the New York socialites of his grandmother's age liked to gossip about more than a woman who'd had "one cut too many" or who'd "rolled the dice once too often" or who'd "been cut by a quack." All of them whispered about how they would use only "Meryl's doctor" or "Madonna's doctor" if they ever opted for plastic surgery—which they, of course, never admitted to doing.

Eric shook his head a little. His own grandmother, Grace Northman, had had at least three "corrective procedures" that he knew of, and he wasn't really "in the know"—so she'd probably had even more than that. However, Eric had to admit that Grace's own choice of doctor—whether it was Meryl's or Madonna's—had been excellent, for she still looked like a "normal" human. The woman now in front of him did not.

Michelle had obviously once been a beautiful woman, though—because of the sneer that seemed permanently etched onto her face—she didn't hold a candle to her daughter. However, Michelle had had—in Eric's estimation—about five or six Botox injections too many and _all_ from the wrong doctor. Moreover, the stench of cigarette smoke clung to her so much that he could smell it from across the room.

"Well—look who _finally_ showed up," a young man, presumably Sookie's brother, drawled from next to the woman.

"Oh—don't be so harsh," Michelle Stackhouse said sarcastically, "Susanna's a New Yorker now. It's a miracle she even came at all. We _all_ know that she cares about _dear_ Adele _only_ for her money."

Hoping that his presence would block Sookie from the venom her mother was spewing, Eric stepped forward so that Sookie was a little behind him. What he really wanted to do was to punch out both Michelle and Jason Stackhouse, but Eric knew that such a thing wouldn't help Sookie—no matter how good it might feel.

"Who's this?" Michelle asked, turning her gaze to Eric and leering at him as if he were a piece of meat.

Eric ignored the look and the question and walked Sookie up to the desk. "Sookie Stackhouse is here to see Adele Stackhouse," he said.

The attendant looked up nervously. "Just a moment." She quickly pushed some buttons and made a call. "It'll be just another minute," the attendant said. "Mrs. Stackhouse's lawyer's back there, and she gets only one visitor at a time."

"She's awake?" Sookie stammered out.

The attendant smiled a little and nodded to the young woman.

Eric led Sookie over to the seats farthest away from Michelle and Jason and sat down with Sookie practically on his lap. He noticed that Sookie was staring at her mother with a lost look in her eyes.

"Sookie," Eric whispered in her ear so that only she could hear. "Min sol," he said when she didn't look at him right away.

Finally she turned to him.

He spoke quietly, probably too quietly for her even to hear, but he knew that she could read his lips. "I am here. Your gran is here. You are here. No one else matters. Those people don't matter."

Her lost look fading just a little, Sookie nodded even as the door leading to the ICU opened and Sid Matt Lancaster came out into the waiting room. He was followed by an attractive African American woman in a navy suit; the woman immediately nodded at Sookie and Eric.

"Miss Stackhouse," she said, extending her hand, "my name is Kenya Jones, and I'm the hospital administrator. It's my unpleasant duty to inform you that Jason and Michelle Stackhouse tried to have you barred from Adele Stackhouse's room."

"What?" Sookie asked, her heart dropping. Eric's arm around her shoulder was the only thing that kept her steady.

"Don't worry," Kenya said quickly. "After personally hearing from your grandmother and her attorney, I have deemed that barring you would be inappropriate. Since she has been awake, your grandmother has been asking for you." Kenya smiled comfortingly. "And I know that your being here will bring her great comfort. You can stay with her as long as you like," she added with a little glare in the direction of the other Stackhouses in the waiting room.

"Thanks," Sookie stammered as she went up to the front desk again in order to get her visitor's badge.

"I'm going with her," Eric said forcefully.

"Only one visitor at a time," the attendant said regretfully. "And only family or—uh—clergy and council."

"I'm Miss Stackhouse's fiancée, and I'm going with her," Eric said, his tone brooking no argument.

"Susanna doesn't have a fiancé," Michelle said nastily from across the room.

"And I don't see no ring," Jason added, suddenly next to them at the window.

Sid Matt stepped forward a little. His eyes were clearly red and showed his own sadness; however, he spoke firmly. "Adele visited Miss Stackhouse and her fiancée at Thanksgiving. I can vouch for this young man." He looked at the administrator. "Surely an exception can be made, given the situation."

Ms. Jones nodded and turned to the attendant. "Issue both of them badges and let them _both_ stay as long as they want."

"What about Jason?" Michelle piped in. "He's got a right to say goodbye to his grandmother too."

"Yeah!" Jason practically yelled. "I got rights here too!"

Ms. Jones stood up a little straighter and addressed the two with an air of authority. "I do _not_ appreciate troublemakers coming into my hospital and trying to air family problems when people are ill. Mrs. Stackhouse has made it very clear whom she wants to see, and I believe Jason Stackhouse has already visited her. If she asks for him again, he may go back _after_ Miss Stackhouse is done."

With that, Kenya motioned toward a hospital guard who'd just entered the room. She glared back at Jason and Michelle. "And if either of you causes even the tiniest of disturbances from here on out, you will _both_ be escorted from this building."

"You can't do that," Jason insisted unpleasantly.

"I can and I will," Kenya hissed before turning on her heel and leaving the waiting room.

* * *

Thankful that Eric would be going with her, Sookie breathed a sigh of relief and let him lead her through the door as the attendant buzzed them through. They were met by a kind-faced nurse whose nametag read Halleigh. Eric immediately recognized her name; she was the nurse who had been communicating with them.

"Hello, Sookie," Halleigh said with a caring smile. "I'm just gonna take you and Mr. Northman here to get gowned up so that you can visit with your grandmother—okay?"

Sookie nodded and then she and Eric followed Halleigh into a little room with a large sink. Halleigh instructed them on how to wash their hands and then outfitted them both with a gown and shoe coverings before taking them down the hall to Adele's room.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks so much for all the wonderful comments for the last chapter. As I knew would happen, many of you are upset about Gran. I am too. I have fallen in love with writing the Gran character (whom I've not gotten to work with much), and I love writing her with Elsa (Mormor). I don't want to give away what is coming; all I can say is that the story is dictating what happens.**

**Well—what do you think about your introduction to Michelle and Jason? Who wants to help me build a snake pit and drop them (along with Appius) into it? Of course, the only problem with that would be that the snakes would be "out-venomed." **

**Thanks for reading and continuing to support me and this story.**

**Until next time,**

**Kat **

**P.S. Remember that "cast" photos are available on my WordPress (californiakat1564 . wordpress . com).**


	9. Chapter 9: Magic and Loss

**Chapter 09: Magic and Loss**

**[KLEENEX ALERT!]**

"_**There's a bit of magic in everything, and some loss to even things out."—Lou Reed**_

Sookie squeezed Eric's hand tightly as they entered the small hospital room, which was full of various machines. Immediately, a tear slipped down her cheek as she saw Gran lying in the midst of those machines. Adele, who had always been so full of life, now looked small and frail.

"Gran?" Sookie said, a bit uncertainly as she approached.

The elderly woman's eyes slowly opened and then took a few moments longer to focus.

"Sookie," came her weak voice. "Eric," she smiled a little before she frowned. "I must look a fright."

"You look beautiful, Adele," Eric said.

"Gran," she said. "It's about time you started calling me Gran."

"You look beautiful, Gran," Eric repeated, even as Sookie took her grandmother's hand.

Adele looked up at Sookie. Her words came slowly, but there was still humor behind them. "You'd better keep hold of this one. He knows how to flatter _and_ obey. Not many men can do those things these days," she chuckled to herself, which caused her to cough.

Halleigh appeared out of nowhere to give Adele a drink of water through a straw.

The elderly woman nodded her thanks to the nurse.

"Gran, I . . . ," Sookie started before more tears began to fall from her eyes.

"It's alright, darlin'," Adele said in a soft voice. She continued, still slowly, but with a strength that seemed to be coming from beyond her body. "I know. Dyin' right now is a shock to me too. I wish I would have lived to see you two have babies." She closed her eyes and smiled as if she had a secret. "But I can imagine them already. Blonde and tall and beautiful. And if they inherit even a fraction of the kindness and smarts that you two have in spades, they'll be somethin' real special. I just wish I could have stuck around long enough to meet them."

"You _will_ meet them," Sookie said insistently. "You'll get better. The doctors say that you can have another surgery tomorrow, and they'll fix you right up."

Adele opened her eyes and looked at Sookie lovingly. "I think my body's a little too tired for that, my sweet, sweet Sookie, but you and your Eric here have given me such wonderful memories in the last year of my life." She sighed. "It seems your granddaddy's just tired of waitin' for me. And—to be honest—I'm lookin' forward to bein' with him too."

Adele motioned for some more water, and—again—Halleigh was silently there, doing her best for her patient.

"Oh, Gran," Sookie said as she buried her face into her grandmother's hand.

"I won't tell you not to cry for me," Adele said, her voice a little less scratchy than before. "God knows, I've cried enough in my life to fill an ocean. But I _will_ tell you that I don't want you to mourn for me too much, Sookie. You've been sad for far too long in your life as it is, and it's high time for you to be happy."

"Oh, Gran," Sookie repeated.

Adele continued, her voice low, as if she were looking back into her memories. "I've lived a mighty fine life. And I got to spend most of it with my soul mate. We raised a family together. I just wish that I'd done better by you and Hadley," she sighed. "_Those_ are my regrets."

"Don't say that," Sookie said. "You saved me, Gran. You gave me a life!"

Gran coughed a little and squeezed Sookie's hand as much as she could. "I _should_ have done more—much sooner—to make sure you were okay. I just didn't know . . . ," she said, coughing again.

Once more, Halleigh was unobtrusively waiting to offer Adele a sip of water.

"It's okay, Gran," Sookie insisted. "You saved me," she said again. "You made it so I could hear again. You gave me a home and love and support. Without you in my life, I'd still be just a shell. Without you, I wouldn't have gone to college or to New York. I wouldn't have found Eric."

Gran smiled. "You have such a good heart, Sookie. And all I want for you is to have a happy life." She looked up at Eric and then back at Sookie. "Will you let me speak to your young man for a moment, sweetheart?"

Sookie wiped her eyes. "Okay," she said a little uncertainly.

Adele looked up at Halleigh. "Will you go with my granddaughter? Maybe get her and Eric some coffees."

"Ever the hostess," Eric said softly, bending down and kissing Adele lightly on the forehead from where he was standing next to Sookie.

Adele smiled weakly at him. "I might be dyin', but that's no excuse for bad manners," she winked at him, which elicited a little sob from Sookie.

"Don't go far," Adele said to Sookie. Halleigh handed Eric the water cup and then quietly left the room with Sookie.

Adele looked at Eric seriously. "I feel myself fadin' away more and more every second, but I have some unfinished business, and since you're in business, I thought we ought to talk alone for a moment."

"Okay," Eric said. He couldn't help but to smile at the still-feisty Adele as he gave her a sip of water.

"I can tell that you and Sookie have all the love in the world for each other. I hope you know how rare that is."

"I know," Eric answered honestly as he took Adele's hand. "I know."

"Promise me that you'll make her happy."

"I will," Eric swore. "I'll move heaven and earth to see her smile."

"Good man," Adele said with a weary sigh. "You _are_ plannin' to marry her—right?"

"Yes," Eric said without hesitation. "As soon as I can."

Adele laughed a little. "I'm glad. You both deserve love—and peace." She coughed again, this time more harshly.

"Should I get Sookie?" Eric asked. "The nurse?"

"Not quite yet," Adele said, motioning for another drink. She was silent for a few moments as she seemed to be storing up enough energy to continue speaking. Once again, she looked like she was pulling her strength from a source beyond herself. "I need to tell you some things," she finally said. "Just you—for now."

"Okay," Eric agreed.

"First, I want you and Sookie to stay at my house while you're here. Otherwise, I'm afraid that viper of a mother of hers will swoop in and clear everything out, and I wanna make sure my granddaughters—both Sookie and Hadley—get anything they want in the house."

Eric nodded. "Done. Michelle won't get her hands on anything."

"Good boy," Adele said with a devilish smirk before motioning for Eric to come closer; he bent down a little.

"Under my bed is a loose board," Adele said quietly. "Under it, there's a box that contains all the love letters my Earl ever wrote to me. I'd like to be buried with those."

"Of course," Eric said, his voice full of emotion.

"Love letters are a beautiful thing for a woman to get, Eric. You remember that!" she ordered, though the effort of doing so was clearly taxing for her.

"I will." Eric couldn't help but to marvel at Adele's continued strength of will and her fire as he gave her another drink.

"There's also a ring in the box with the letters. It's in an envelope with a letter of its own. The ring has been passed down in the Stackhouse family for generations and generations. Iris, my Earl's mother, was the last to wear it. But my finger was too damned fat to wear it after her—without the necessary alterations doin' it harm." Adele paused and motioned for another drink. After a few moments, she continued. "But Sookie's fingers are slim and elegant, just like Iris's. Now—it's an old ring, and the center stone in it was taken out to be buried with Iris, but it's still the most valuable thing in the Stackhouse family."

She coughed again.

"Maybe you should rest for a while," Eric said softly.

Adele shook her head. "Soon I'll be restin' forever. This time I've been given—this time with you and Sookie—it's a gift I don't plan on wastin'."

Eric nodded and gave her another drink.

"That ring—the Stackhouse ring—is bound with a lot of love, Eric," Adele conveyed. "And the letter gives its history. Make sure Sookie knows that history one day. You'll know when the time's right."

"I will," Eric promised.

"Did you know that my Earl's parents lived happily together for more than fifty years?"

"No," Eric shook his head as he gave Adele another drink.

The elderly woman smiled. "Earl always said that they never spoke a single cross word to each other, and I was able to see for myself how much they loved one another—right up to the end. The way that Iris and Finn looked at each other is the same way that you and Sookie look at each other—like you're swept away."

She half-sighed and half-coughed before she continued—her voice clearly weakening. "I loved my Earl with all my heart, and I truly think of him as my soul mate, but even we didn't have that kind of sweeping love."

She coughed again, and he gave her more water.

"I need you to promise me that you'll hold onto the love you have for my granddaughter—always."

"With both hands until the day I die," he swore. "Always."

She smiled at him. "I know you're rich, Eric, but I'd like for you to take the Stackhouse ring, put a new stone into the heart of it, and give it to Sookie when you officially ask for her hand. I want you to tell her the ring's story, and I want you to tell her how much I approve of you two gettin' married."

I tear rolled down his cheek. "Thank you, Gran. I will."

Gran smiled and sighed with relief—as if the last task that was troubling her was done. "I'd like to see Sookie again, but I need you to stay by her side. It won't be long now," she said tiredly.

"I'll get her," Eric said as he bent down and gave the woman another kiss on her forehead.

"Oh—and you'll be sure to tell Elsa goodbye for me. And tell her I'm sorry we never got to paint up New Orleans together," she added with a fading smile.

Eric nodded and brushed away another tear as he went to get his beloved.

* * *

Gran weakened in noticeable stages over the next hour as her coughing increased and her ability to speak decreased, but she didn't sleep. Eric recognized that Gran was fighting for every remaining minute of her life—and fighting to stay awake to enjoy those minutes.

Finally, Halleigh had to put a large oxygen mask over Adele's nose and mouth, in addition to the tube that had already been in her nose.

After that, Gran motioned for the mask to be taken off occasionally and talked in spurts as she could—mostly about Earl and about how proud she was of Sookie and Eric. At about 11:00 p.m., Hadley arrived at the hospital, but because of her HIV viral count, she wasn't allowed back into the ICU. Her husband, Remy Savoy, came in with a cute swaddled infant so that Adele could see her great-grandchild for a final time, and Remy said a short farewell on Hadley's behalf before taking a message to Hadley from Adele. Jason was invited in next, while Eric and Sookie stayed in the nurse's lounge so that they wouldn't have to go back into the waiting room with Michelle. At five minutes until midnight, Sookie and Eric went back into Adele's room.

By then, Gran needed the oxygen mask all the time, but she gestured for Sookie to come closer and to take off the mask for just a moment. She whispered a final "I love you," and then slipped into sleep with a serene look on her face.

Not ten minutes later, Adele Stackhouse slipped away from the world, and—if the prayers of those in the room were answered—right into the arms of her waiting Earl.

* * *

**A/N: Hello all. Many thanks for the reviews for the previous chapter. I'm sort of at a loss for words after editing this chapter. It always makes me cry. **

**In so many ways, the story dictated that Gran die at this point. Her death will set certain things into motion—some bad and some good. But—most importantly—Gran's death in the books is a major turning point for Sookie. **_**Or**_**—it **_**could**_** have been. I actually believe that Sookie suppresses her grief (and guilt) over Gran, which eventually leads to all kinds of problems for Sookie, including her inability to "give herself to love" after Bill. In this story, I wanted to give Sookie the chance to do something that Gran would have wanted: to grow and become stronger because of the loss, to recognize that the strength within her grandmother had passed along to her in fundamental and profound ways. And—perhaps most importantly—to learn that she is capable of surviving great loss with her "personhood" intact. She will need all of these lessons.**

**That said, I already miss Gran. I usually "pick up" the **_**TB/SVM**_** narrative after Gran's death, though she figures into the **_**Back and Forth**_** universe a little bit. But in **_**Comfortably Numb**_** and here, I got to delve into her character more, and it was wonderful (especially when she was "cutting up" with Elsa). Many thanks to Charlaine Harris for creating Adele Stackhouse and for the beautiful Lois Smith for bringing her to life. **

**I plan on one more chapter this week. (It used to be attached to this one, but I wanted to give Gran a proper coda, so it is now separate.) Since it's a bit shorter than usual, I should be able to have it to you on Monday or Tuesday. **

**Until then,**

**Kat**


	10. Chapter 10: A Very Small Place

**Chapter 10: A Very Small Place**

Bobby looked down at his phone when it beeped. The message was short, but no less heartbreaking for it brevity: "Gran's gone."

Bobby crushed his finished cigarette into the ashtray he'd found on Adele's porch and sighed deeply. About ninety minutes before, he'd gotten another text from Eric—one asking him to make sure that Adele's home was secure until Sookie and he got there. Eric's concern was that—once Adele was gone—Michelle and Jason would try to get into the home and strip it clean of valuables.

Extremely thankful for a task to keep him busy during the dead of the night, Bobby had immediately traveled to the farmhouse. As much as he liked to take care of things himself, however, he speculated that he would need "official" back-up in order to avoid being arrested for kicking the asses of Sookie's mother and brother. Of course, he was tempted to knock them out and take them to "visit" their kind in the alligator farm he'd seen on the way to Bon Temps from Shreveport. But he knew that Sookie wouldn't approve of that—no matter how unimaginably reptilian her mother and sibling were.

It hadn't taken Bobby long to find the help he needed to keep Michelle and Jason away from the farmhouse—while at the same time ensuring that he would stay out of jail.

A call to a friend in the FBI in NYC had led to a new and trustworthy contact for Bobby. It just so happened that Bobby's friend had gone to Quantico with an agent in the Shreveport office, Travis Fletcher. A call to Agent Fletcher had yielded a boon. Not only did Fletcher offer his "off-the-record" assistance—if need be—but also a cousin of the agent's sister-in-law was a sheriff in Bon Temps, Louisiana, the very town where Adele lived.

Bobby smiled as he called Andy Bellefleur. If there was one thing that he had learned in his line of work, it was that the world could be a _very_ small place sometimes.

After Bobby name-dropped Agent Fletcher, Sheriff Bellefleur promised to send a patrol car to make sure that Adele's home remained unbothered, though he insisted that a "God-fearin' Christian" like Michelle Stackhouse wouldn't do anything of harm there since they were "family and all."

Bobby didn't believe that for a New York minute.

Bobby's next call was to Sid Matt Lancaster, who'd left the hospital after Sookie and Eric were situated. Sid Matt agreed to hold vigil at Adele's as well. Finally, Bobby called a car service and asked if a driver could be made available for Eric and Sookie when they were ready to leave the hospital. Luckily, the car service—though small—had something that would work, and for a little extra money, the driver agreed to go to the hospital immediately and to wait for Eric's call.

Those tasks complete half an hour before, Bobby had simply been waiting on Adele's porch for either his new allies or his new enemies or his "brother" and Sookie to arrive. He didn't exactly trust the sheriff to stop Michelle—since she was "family and all." And though Sid Matt seemed trustworthy enough, he was clearly on the north-side of eighty years old.

Fifteen minutes after Eric's text about Adele's death, a somewhat annoyed-looking Sheriff Andy Bellefleur pulled up, checked in with Bobby, and then took up a position near the end of the driveway. Five minutes after that, a weary-looking Sid Matt Lancaster pulled up.

"Have you heard? Adele's gone," Sid Matt sighed resignedly as he got out of his car.

"Yes, Eric let me know," he answered as he took in the man. He could tell that Sid Matt was quite upset over Adele's loss, and he couldn't help but to wonder if the two had been romantically involved. Adele had spoken of Sid Matt a few times over Thanksgiving, and she'd blushed like a schoolgirl when she spoke of him at any length. Plus, there had been the knowing looks exchanged between Elsa and Adele when Sid Matt's name had been brought up.

Bobby nodded to the elderly gent as Sid Matt spryly climbed the steps of the porch. Bobby couldn't help but to hope that he was right about Adele having romantic "companionship" during the last months of her life. From what Bobby had gathered, it seemed that Sid Matt was worthy of Adele. Not many would have been in Bobby's eyes.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Bobby said sympathetically. "I met Adele only a couple of times, but everything I knew about her told me that she was a wonderful woman." Bobby lit up another cigarette.

"One of the best I ever met," Sid Matt sighed. "You got another one of those?" he asked.

Bobby smiled a little and handed the older man a cigarette and his lighter.

Sid Matt took the offered items. "I haven't touched a cigarette in almost forty years," he chuckled after he coughed following his first inhale. "Once the health risks were known, my wife nagged me till I quit."

"I'm good at quitting them," Bobby smirked. "In fact, I quit all the time. Sadly, I'm just as good at starting up again."

Sid Matt chuckled and looked at Bobby's finger. "You just need a wife to nag you."

"The closest I've ever gotten to that is Eric's sister—and she prefers other women," Bobby intoned.

"No wonder you smoke then," Sid Matt kidded.

Both men chuckled. Sid Matt settled down into the porch swing, even as Bobby sat down on the steps of the porch. Seemingly becoming lost in his memories, Sid Matt stared into the woods surrounding Adele's home. Bobby was happy to give the older man some silence. And he couldn't help but to hope that the peace surrounding the farmhouse would remain in place for Sid Matt's sake—even though he was craving a little action _and_ the opportunity to "justifiably" knock out at least Jason Stackhouse, if not Michelle.

* * *

A half an hour after Adele had died peacefully in her sleep, Halleigh returned to her hospital room. The kind nurse had left after Adele passed away in order to give the couple some time alone with the woman they'd lost.

She walked to the opposite side of the bed from the couple. Sookie was cradled on Eric's lap in the small room's only chair. The young woman still held her grandmother's hand in hers, and Eric's chin was resting on Sookie's shoulder.

"If y'all are ready," Halleigh said softly, "I need to get Miss Adele ready to be taken downstairs."

Sookie seemed startled by the nurse's voice and sniffled loudly.

"We're keeping you from your job," Sookie said apologetically.

"Not at all, Sookie," Halleigh said with a compassionate smile. "I don't mean to rush y'all."

"It's okay," Sookie said as she looked at Gran. "I know she's not here anymore. It's just that I want her to be."

Halleigh reached out and patted Sookie's hand, which was still over her grandmother's. The nurse noticed that the young woman's other hand was tucked safely into the grasp of her man. She couldn't help but to sigh a little as she took them in.

Eric Northman looked like he'd stepped right out of a Hollywood movie. In fact, he'd been the talk of the ward that night, but since Halleigh was happily involved with someone—albeit a balding, middle-aged someone with a bit of a gut—she'd just appreciated the handsome man silently.

"I knew Miss Adele a little, even before today," the nurse shared. "That's why I wanted to be assigned to her and stayed on with her after my shift officially ended."

"How did you know her?" Sookie asked.

"I recently moved in with my boyfriend in Bon Temps," Halleigh responded.

"Who's your boyfriend?" Sookie asked.

"Did you grow up in Bon Temps?"

Sookie nodded in affirmation.

"Then, I reckon you know Andy Bellefleur—right?"

"The sheriff?"

"Yep," Halleigh answered, her voice conveying her pride in her boyfriend. "I can't say I've met too many people in Bon Temps nicer than Miss Adele. I haven't socialized much since I work 20-hour shifts three times a week, but Miss Adele always made me feel real welcome at church whenever I could get there."

Sookie smiled. "That sounds like her."

Halleigh returned Sookie's smile. "At church, she talked a little about her granddaughters—about you and your cousin. I could tell she was real proud of both of you."

"Thank you," Sookie said, turning her hand over to squeeze Halleigh's. "I'll be sure to tell that to Hadley too."

Halleigh's smile faded, and she looked at Sookie a little regretfully. "Before he left, Sid Matt dealt with most of the paperwork—with the hospital bill and whatnot. But—I'm sorry. There are a few more papers you'll have to sign before you go. But I've told Sally that you'll be there soon, and she's got everything ready so y'all can get in and out."  
"Where will . . . ." Sookie's voice shook as she stopped midsentence.

"Where will Adele be taken?" Eric asked, intuiting what Sookie was going to ask.

"Sid Matt made the arrangements that Miss Adele asked for," Halleigh said softly. "I'll take the tubes and such out of her, and I'll clean her up a bit. Then she'll go to the morgue until someone from the Bon Temps funeral home comes to get her tomorrow. Then they'll make her look her best for the funeral service."

"Do I—uh—need to do anything?" Sookie asked tearfully.

"No," Halleigh comforted. "I overheard Sid Matt talking with Miss Adele earlier, and she pretty much had everything planned for—just in case. I reckon Sid Matt will call you tomorrow to make arrangements to pick up the dress she wanted to be buried in, but you shouldn't worry about anything tonight," Halleigh said kindly.

"And the paperwork downstairs? What is that for?" Eric asked.

"Mostly—it's so that Miss Adele's personal effects can be released to you," Halleigh informed. "She didn't come in with much, and her nightgown had to be cut off of her, but I think the paramedics grabbed her purse and keys for her, and she had a wedding ring on."

"Thank you," Eric said.

Sookie stood up straight, and Halleigh could tell that the strength that had been an inherent part of Adele Stackhouse had been inherited by her granddaughter.

"We would like for you to come to the funeral if you can, Halleigh," Sookie requested.

"I'd like that," the nurse smiled.

* * *

Eric stayed next to Sookie as she signed the papers she needed to sign in order to claim Adele's property; then, he texted the number for the driver Bobby had arranged to take them to Bon Temps. Eric was grateful that Bobby had thought about the fact that he would want a driver. Eric could have driven, of course, but all he really craved was to hold Sookie close as she grieved her great loss. He could tell that she was exhausted—drained both physically and emotionally—and he wanted to get her to Gran's home as soon as possible.

Once they were in the car, Sookie fell asleep against him quickly—something that Eric was very relieved about, especially when he received a text from Bobby after they'd been on the road for about fifteen minutes.

Upon reading the text, Eric quickly dialed his friend.

"Are they still there?" he asked quietly so as not to disturb Sookie.

"We just got rid of them," Bobby responded. "The sheriff had to threaten to arrest them, so it took a little while, but they're gone now. Adele was right. They were _definitely_ intending to break into the house. They were each driving a fucking truck, Eric!"

"Was it Sheriff Bellefleur that got them to go?" Eric asked.

"How'd you know his name?"

"Halleigh, Adele's nurse, mentioned him. She was," he paused, "kind to Sookie. She's dating Bellefleur."

"Small world," Bobby observed as if to himself.

"Do you think they'll come back?" Eric asked.

Bobby sighed. "Probably not tonight, but I'm guessing they'll return tomorrow. Sid Matt's being here helped a lot. As Adele's attorney, he was able to spur Officer Bellefleur into action by telling him about the last request Adele made of him."

"Which was?" Eric asked.

"Do you want the quote?" Bobby asked, his voice conveying amusement.

"Yeah," Eric returned with a small smile of his own.

"Adele told Sid Matt to keep everyone but you and Sookie out of her fuckin' house. Of course, she also told him to make apologies for her language—though she made clear that she was certain that God would forgive her in this case."

Eric chuckled softy so that he wouldn't disturb Sookie. "That sounds _exactly_ like Gran. So—will Bellefleur keep an officer there all night?"

"He's staying until 3:00 a.m., and then he's sending someone else until noon tomorrow," Bobby reported. "By then Sid Matt with have filed an injunction banning Michelle Stackhouse and Jason Stackhouse from entering the premises. He left right after Michelle and Jason did in order to get the paperwork started. Plus, I have a call in to a private security firm so that we can get some guards here beginning tomorrow."

"Good," Eric sighed. "We'll be there in about thirty minutes, and I don't want Sookie to have to deal with any of this—not tonight."

"She won't have to," Bobby promised. "And I'll be here keeping watch too."

"Bobby?" Eric said.

"Yeah?"

"I don't tell you this enough, but you're probably the best friend I've ever have—the best one I _will_ ever have."

"There's no probably about it," Bobby said with certainty. "And we are not friends, Eric. You are my brother," he added before hanging up the phone.

* * *

**A/N: Well—here's my fourth chapter this week. I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow and a busy first of the week, so this will be it for this go around. You can expect this story back sometime around March 5.**

**Thanks so much for the continued comments and support!**

**XOXO,**

**Kat**


	11. Chapter 11: Grief of Several Kinds

**Chapter 11: Grief of Several Kinds**

_**Grief is the price we pay for love.—Queen Elizabeth II**_

* * *

_**Sunday, December 30**_

_**Eric POV**_

Eric sighed as he turned down the blankets of the bed in Sookie's old room. Adele had died three nights before.

As it had turned out, Eric couldn't keep Sookie sheltered from all of her mother's antics, no matter how hard he'd tried. The morning after Adele's death, Michelle and Jason Stackhouse had shown up at the house with a U-Haul truck and had tried to convince Sookie to let them take "a few things" that Michelle _swore_ they'd been promised.

During the same "conversation," Michelle had also tried false affection, ridicule, bullying, and guilt. But Eric had stood as a buffer, and—true to his word—Sid Matt had come through with a court order banning Michelle and Jason from entering onto the property without permission. Despite that, however, Eric had still hired two guards from a private security firm recommended by Bobby's FBI contact in order to make sure that the house stayed secure.

Although Adele had died in the very early hours of Friday morning, her funeral could not be held until the following Thursday, January 3, due to the holidays and the fact that the town's only funeral director was sick with the flu. Of course, Sam had been quick to offer Sookie all the time off she needed. However, Eric's work schedule was another matter, and he had needed to scramble in order to move things back.

He sighed again as he thought about how Sookie had tried to convince him to return to Manhattan while she stayed in Bon Temps. But there was no way in hell he was going to leave her alone to bury her gran and to deal with Michelle Stackhouse!

Luckily, Eric had a great team at NP, and his current executive assistant, Clancy—whom he'd hand-selected after he realized that Ginger had been reporting information to his father out of her ignorance of the situation between them—was always on top of things. Added to that was the fact that Eric ran his division with great efficiency, so with the addition of high-speed Internet in Gran's house—which had been installed that afternoon, despite the fact that it was a Sunday—Eric had been able to set up a little office for himself, and he'd already completed all the business he'd previously planned for the Friday before. Given the fact that it was New Year's Eve the next day, there would not be much to do early in the week, but he and Sookie planned to stay through Saturday to settle Gran's affairs, and beginning Wednesday, he would need to do quite a bit of work. And Adele's old dial-up system just wouldn't have been sufficient for that.

Actually, Bobby had been the one to arrange for the high-speed Internet access—in addition to doing about a million other things. Eric had tried to give his friend a raise, though Bobby had told him to "fuck off" when he mentioned it. Eric couldn't help but to smile a little bit as he recalled that conversation.

Meanwhile, Pam and Amelia had been helping to run interference with Appius.

The official story—mentioned casually to Nora by Pam—was that Eric and one of his girlfriends were both very sick with the flu. Pam explained that Eric would be working from home until his doctor said he was no longer contagious and that the girlfriend was also staying with him.

Since Eric had rushed from Appius's office, Sigebert or Wybert had been watching Carmichael Tower building 24-7, and Amelia was doing her part by staying over. She was actually cat-sitting a very lonely Ned, who'd been banned from Pam's home twenty minutes into his "visit" after he'd climbed her silk drapes. Of course, Amelia was also spending quality time with Pam.

Thalia, however, was the true star of the deception. Using some equipment Bobby had gotten, Eric recorded himself calling Clancy's cell phone the evening before; of course, Eric had feigned his best sick-voice. Working her magic, Thalia had made it seem like Eric was speaking from his office at home.

That morning, Pam and Amelia had also given a performance for Appius's listening pleasure. They'd pretended that they were looking for a book for Eric in his office since he was too sick to get out of bed. They had talked about how Amelia was starting to feel a tad bit better and about how sweet it was of Eric to rush to her side when he'd discovered she was sick—only to fall victim to the flu himself. And—in true Pam fashion—she had made sure to snark that they'd better not infect her.

Eric had also instructed Clancy to send Andre an email explaining that Eric was ill and would likely be working from home for most—if not all—of the upcoming week. The email also conveyed Eric's apologies for running out of the meeting. Eric explained his sudden departure by saying that he'd learned that a friend of his was ill.

The explanation for Eric's hasty exit from the meeting was imperfect at best, but the other pieces of the story helped to corroborate it. And they were all hoping that Appius would buy the ruse. The fact that Eric had dropped everything to "rush to Amelia's side" would be potentially problematic—as would the fact that she was staying over with him. These pieces of news would make it seem as if Eric and Amelia were closer than the "fuck buddies" they'd been portraying themselves to be, but Bobby was already trying to come up with ways to turn the situation to their advantage.

The New Year's holiday was also convenient, given the fact that the office would be closed for the following two days. That meant that Eric would be missing only three days of work that week. He would also have less work to see to than normal, which, in turn, would mean that he'd be able to put most of his focus where it belonged: on Sookie.

He sighed. Adele had requested that her Will be read before her funeral, so Sid Matt had made arrangements for the reading of the document to occur in his office on the morning of December 31—the next day.

Eric took off his T-shirt and lounge pants and got into bed. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples for a moment. He wished that he could spare Sookie from having to be in the same room as Michelle, but he couldn't. Sookie had been named executrix of the Will, so she had to be there. And, unfortunately, both Michelle and Jason were named in the Will as well.

Eric heard the shower turn off and knew that Sookie would be joining him in a moment. It had been during the first shower she'd taken the morning after they arrived that he'd secured the box Adele had told him about. After only a few minutes of searching, he'd found the loose board under Adele's bed. After taking out the ring and the letter explaining its history, Eric had shown Sookie the love letters Adele had spoken about, the letters that Earl had written to her. Bobby had had no trouble making sure that they would be with Adele in her casket so that they would be buried with her.

"What are you thinking about?" Sookie asked as she climbed into bed with him. She was wearing one of Eric's T-shirts and a thick pair of socks, which he knew she'd shed once she'd been in bed for a few minutes.

Eric smiled. "Love letters. Gran suggested that it was a good idea to send them."

Sookie returned his smile and raised her hand to his cheek before leaning in for a soft kiss, which she quickly deepened.

When she pulled back, they were both a little breathless.

"If you're not ready, we don't have to," Eric said.

"I want you," Sookie replied, moving closer to him. "Gran wouldn't want me to stop living. And," she said with a twinkle in her eyes, "she'd want us to get plenty of practice for when we start making her great-grandbabies."

Eric chuckled. "Yes—she seemed to have very _definite_ ideas in that regard."

"She really liked you," Sookie said quietly.

"And she really _loved_ you."

Sookie sighed. "I should have been here—taking care of her. I shouldn't have," she paused, "held back so much from her for so long."

Eric cradled her cheek in his large palm. "Sookie, Gran didn't need taking care of. Just think about what she and Mormor got up to in Sweden and then again in Manhattan. She was strong and active—quite literally until the day she died."

"But if someone would have called the ambulance right away . . . ." Sookie stopped midsentence.

"Don't," Eric ordered. "Even if you'd been living here, there would have been no guarantee that you would have been home when Gran had her first heart attack." He sighed. "And she wouldn't have wanted you to stay in Bon Temps; you know that as well as I do. She knew why you couldn't stay here. And she loved you, Sookie; she was proud of you and the life you've made for yourself."

A tear slid down Sookie's cheek as she leaned into Eric's chest and held on for dear life. "What do you think she'll do tomorrow?" she asked after a few moments of quiet.

Knowing exactly which "she" Sookie was referring to, Eric sighed. Being Appius Northman's hated son had taught him _exactly_ what Michelle Stackhouse was capable of doing.

"She'll try to hurt you—to crush you—any way she can," he sighed. "But you won't let her."

"And you'll be there," she said. She didn't need to ask.

"Yes. I will," he confirmed. "Right there next to you."

She kissed his bare chest, even as he placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

"I talked to Pam earlier," Eric said after a while. "We owe her a new sweater—as well as the drapes."

"Ned?" Sookie asked with a smile in her voice.

"Who else? Apparently, she was trying to prevent him from climbing the Christmas tree."

Sookie giggled. "Big mistake."

"On Pam's part," he chuckled.

"You know—Ned's going to be pissed at us when we take the tree down."

"We'll just remember not to wear any clothing we value that day."

She raised herself up to look into his eyes. "Let's practice that now."

"Practice what?"

"The not wearing clothing part."

He chuckled and bent down, capturing her lips with his. It wasn't long before the few garments they had on were decorating the floor. And not long after that, they were discovering the squeaks in the old bed.

_**Sookie POV **_

Sookie knew that she was probably squeezing Eric's hand way too hard, but she couldn't stop herself. She looked down at her clothing: blue jeans and a gray cardigan over a light blue camisole—and her red coat, of course. Pam had selected her clothing quickly when she had packed small bags for both Eric and her. Sookie had been happy to see that most of the things packed were casual, though her black work suit was also in there. However, that was for the funeral.

Sookie had had no idea what to wear for the reading of a Will, but she'd done the best she could with what she had.

She needn't have worried. Jason showed up in an old letterman's jacket, a well-worn T-shirt, and dirty-looking jeans. And Michelle Stackhouse looked comically overdressed in her flouncy black dress and veiled black hat. Sookie wanted to tell her mother that the Will had already been written, so there was no longer a need for her to play the part of a dutiful daughter-in-law in public, but she didn't want to have any interaction with Michelle Stackhouse, so she refrained from making the comment.

Of course, avoiding a confrontation with Michelle and Jason was a pipedream, but Sookie was determined to try doing just that.

* * *

_**Sid Matt POV**_

"What's _he_ doing here?" Michelle asked as soon as she saw Eric. "It should be only family!" she yelled venomously in Sookie's direction.

"Right!" Jason echoed, managing to look both confused and personally affronted at the same time.

"Mr. Northman was named in Adele's Will," Sid Matt said calmly, though his face conveyed his disapproval of Michelle's questioning Eric's presence.

Sid Matt had to hold in his sigh as he gestured toward the coffee he'd had his secretary set up on one side of the little conference room. He'd known Michelle Stackhouse her whole life—for fifty years, give or take—but he'd never been privy to the side of her that he'd seen during the past several days.

Of course, he wasn't really surprised to know that there were secrets under the veneer of the Stackhouse family. After all, he was one of the only lawyers in the region; thus, he'd learned some pretty damned disconcerting things about his friends and neighbors over the years. No—he wasn't surprised; he was just disappointed—but mostly for Adele's and Susanna's sakes.

Sid Matt had known Adele for upwards of seventy years. He'd even been paying her courting calls for the last two of those years! But she'd never shared any indication of her problems with her daughter-in-law, and that fact made him a little sad. Of course, he could have been privy to things if he'd read over Adele's Will or the recent additions to it, but he was not in the practice of doing that sort of thing. No—unless he was asked to help in the writing of it, he was never aware of the specific contents of a client's Will until he previewed it before the official reading. And Adele's final wishes had been no different.

Sid Matt sighed. It was safe to say that—until Bobby Burnham had called him—he would have never imagined that Michelle Stackhouse was anything other than the kind Southern woman she projected herself to be. But a scrape of the surface had revealed something very ugly underneath.

Burnham had contacted Sid Matt the previous Thursday and had told him about Adele's heart attack. Truth be told, Sid Matt had been surprised that he hadn't already heard about it, given the grease with which the gossip mill in Bon Temps usually ran. And, if he would have known, he would have gone to Adele sooner—but for _personal_ reasons.

However, Burnham, who had first identified himself as Susanna Stackhouse's lawyer, had requested that Sid Matt drive to the hospital in Shreveport for professional reasons.

The elderly attorney closed his eyes for a moment as he remembered his goodbye with the woman who'd been his friend and who—because of the miracle of Viagra—had also become his lover four months before. Adele had been the second woman that Sid Matt had been forced to say goodbye to well before he was ready. Julia, his wife of fifty years, had been the first. And—although his relationship with Adele had been different—they had offered each other the companionship they'd been craving, and he'd hoped to enjoy that for years to come.

Julia had been his soul mate. But Adele had made him laugh more than any other person ever had. And—at his age—he knew of the value of laughter.

He'd loved both women, and he would continue to love them until the day he died.

Sid Matt shook his head sadly as he thought about how quickly time passed and how fleeting life was. Adele had been almost ten years his junior, though he could hardly remember a time when she wasn't a part of his life in some way. She had been his own dear wife's best friend. And Sid Matt's brother, Jacob, had been Earl Stackhouse's closest friend. Hell—Jacob and Earl had even served together in the army!

The elderly gentleman sighed. Both Julia and Jacob had been a little lost when Earl and Adele had moved to New Orleans about a quarter of a century before. Thus, Sid Matt had gone to New Orleans with his wife and/or brother many times over the years in order to visit with the Stackhouses. Of course, Sid Matt had never considered romance with Adele until both of their spouses had passed on.

After Earl's death, Adele had moved back to Bon Temps. It had seemed natural—sweet even—when Susanna had moved in with the widow, although the teenager hadn't yet graduated from high school. Around that time, Sid Matt had overheard Michelle Stackhouse telling some people at church that it had been difficult for her to let Susanna move out of her home, but that Adele was so lonely that it was her Christian duty to make sure her mother-in-law was well taken care of.

At the time, Sid Matt had found the mother's sacrifice to be admirable, and he'd been happy for it for Adele's sake. Adele certainly hadn't said or done anything to indicate that she had trouble with her son's widow. The only hint he'd ever gotten was years before—when Julia had made a comment that Earl and Adele were estranged from their son Corbett. But Sid Matt hadn't asked his wife any questions about that; for better or worse, it had never really been the lawyer's personality to want to delve too far into the personal lives of his friends and acquaintances. Perhaps that was because his profession forced him into those lives too often as it was. And the ever intuitive Adele had probably sensed that about him.

Indeed, except when she was in the throes of passion—at which time she would curse like a sailor—Adele had always been the picture of Southern politeness and restraint. Sid Matt smiled a little.

Of course, Adele could gossip with the best of them. But—thinking back—Sid Matt realized that Adele was someone who preferred gossiping about the good things in life, like who was having a new grandbaby or who was taking a vacation. And she'd never shared negative gossip about her own kin—at least not around him.

It was safe to say that—despite his friendships with Adele and Earl—Sid Matt had never really looked closely at the rest of the Stackhouses, even after Adele had moved back—even after his own romantic interest in her was piqued.

Sid Matt was ashamed to admit that some of that lack of looking had to do with Susanna herself. Everyone in town had always talked about how the girl was "different." Apparently, she had become deaf during her early childhood, but she could still talk, which was an oddity in and of itself. But she could also "listen" since she'd learned how to read lips. At times, Sid Matt had noticed the way that young Susanna would stare at everyone and everything in a room, her eyes always trained on people's lips even if they were far away from her. It had been disconcerting to Sid Matt when he would glance around a room only to find the little girl's eyes trained on his mouth as if she were studying it. Most people in town thought the girl to be "strange," perhaps even "touched in the head." In truth, he'd felt a little sorry for Michelle Stackhouse, having to deal with such a difficult situation.

And he'd also made a concerted effort to stay out of Susanna's sightline.

Truth be told, when Susanna had gone off to college, the whole town—including himself—had let out a collective sigh of relief. No longer would they have to monitor their words in public places when "crazy Susan" was in the area.

Since Adele's death, Sid Matt had spent his nights tossing and turning as he thought about the woman with whom he'd been in a relationship—albeit a "secret" one. The elderly pair had made the decision to keep their own romantic association quiet for "decorum's" sake. It had been only four years since Sid Matt had lost his wife, and, given the fact that Julia and Adele had remained so close over the years, it hadn't seemed "proper" to Adele to publicize the fact that she'd "hooked up" with her deceased best friend's widower. Given that secret, Sid Matt couldn't help but to wonder what other mysteries Adele had been holding onto—all for the sake of decorum.

Sid Matt had also been thinking about what things might have been like for little Susanna. For the first time, he'd let himself dwell on the little girl in his memories and not on his own discomfort or the things that others in the town had said about her. And when he did linger on that child, he realized what had made him uncomfortable around her in the first place. It was not her lip reading; it was her eyes when she did it. Though they studied, they always seemed devoid of emotion. He'd compared them to the cold eyes of a reptile, and he'd looked away from them. What he _should_ have done was to ask "why" her eyes were that way.

He now had a strong feeling that those eyes were so empty because of the veiled woman now crying crocodile tears as her son poured her a cup of coffee.

At the Shreveport hospital—away from the people she knew and wanted to impress—Michelle Stackhouse hadn't seemed to be the same woman he thought he knew at all! Jason also had acted differently. Oh—Sid Matt had known that Jason Stackhouse had grown up to be a bit arrogant and uncouth, and the young man was _certainly_ a womanizer, but the lawyer had figured that was a stage of youth. And at the church, at the local fishing spots, or in the cafés and the bar of the little town, the boy was respectful and pleasant enough to the older men of Bon Temps.

But with the strangers at the hospital, Michelle and Jason had behaved differently—_very_ differently. As Sid Matt arrived at the ICU waiting room, he could tell that Michelle and Jason had been arguing with the hospital administrator over whether Susanna should be allowed to see Adele—just as Burnham had said they would be doing. Sid Matt had been shocked by their venom—_until_ they'd seen him in the room. After that, they'd become more restrained, even claiming that they were doing what they thought was best for Adele—that they were trying to _protect_ the old woman from her scheming granddaughter.

To Sid Matt, that dog just didn't hunt!

In private, Adele had actually talked about Susanna quite a bit, and when she did, it was always with great love and pride in her voice. Sid Matt knew that Adele's granddaughter had graduated from college and gotten a Master's degree in English. He knew that she had a good job in New York City and that she was doing well there. In fact, Adele had visited Sookie in New York over Thanksgiving. The previous summer, she'd even gone on a vacation to Sweden with the girl and her beau. And none of those things had indicated that there had been a rift between Adele and the girl she'd called Sookie.

But Michelle and Jason had been insisting that the stress over a falling-out with Sookie had been the cause of Adele's heart attack, and the hospital administrator had been forced to take that possibility into account. However, Halleigh Robinson, whom Michelle and Jason hadn't recognized as Andy Bellefleur's girlfriend—probably since she'd not been living in Bon Temps for long—had attested that Adele had been asking for her granddaughter and had even given Halleigh a phone number for her.

Luckily, Adele had more fully awoken from her sedative by the time Sid Matt arrived. And she was full of the spirit she was known for—despite her weakness. After talking to Halleigh and asking her to call another granddaughter—Hadley—Adele had spoken to both the hospital administrator and Sid Matt. What she'd requested of them was surprising to the lawyer, but he could tell that Adele was as lucid as ever.

First, she'd told them that she didn't want Michelle Stackhouse anywhere near her—lest she try to pull the damned plug—_or_ her property—lest she try to take everything that wasn't nailed down and pry up the things that were. And she'd asked to see Sookie and "her young man" as soon as they got there. She also asked that her Will be read _before_ her funeral and that Sid Matt look out for Sookie—to make sure she wasn't bothered—while she was in Bon Temps.

After that, Kenya Jones had stepped out of the room so that Adele and he could say a private goodbye. That goodbye had been difficult for Sid Matt, and he'd wanted to stay with Adele, but the feisty woman—true to her stubborn ways—had insisted that he go home. Knowing how being there for his Julia's death had almost killed him, she'd told him that she wanted him to remember her alive and well. She'd had her trademark sparkle in her eye as she'd ordered him to remember what they'd been doing just a week before that—on the kitchen table.

Sid Matt had obeyed Adele's directive. And—in his grief—he'd been grateful that he could slip into "lawyer mode" when honoring her other final requests of him. Even after hearing Adele bar Michelle from her room, however, Sid Matt had been shocked to witness the display between Michelle, Jason, and a clearly distraught Susanna when he and Ms. Jones returned to the waiting room.

Of course, he'd been even more shocked when Burnham had been right about Michelle and Jason showing up at Adele's property the very night she died. It didn't take a genius to understand that they were there—in _two_ trucks no less—to take valuables from the home. But when they'd returned the next day with a U-Haul, Sid Matt had wanted to get a bullhorn and shout out from the town square that Michelle Stackhouse was as two-faced as it got! Sadly, he couldn't do that, given the nature of his work.

But he'd really, _really_ wanted to.

Trying to separate himself from his own grief at losing Adele, Sid Matt studied the countenances of the people in his conference room, even as he gestured for Judy, his assistant, to set up the tape recorder. He had decided that he was going to record the session just in case someone—namely Michelle—decided to contest the Will. Sid Matt gazed first at Jason Stackhouse, who had a look of eagerness on his face. The lawyer had seen that look many a time; it was the expression of someone who was not grieving at all. Jason Stackhouse was only there to see what he was getting.

Michelle Stackhouse—despite her dramatic mourning weeds—had no less eager eyes than her son, though she tried to hide that fact with an affected frown and the occasional dabbing of her eyes with a lace handkerchief.

No. The only true grief in the room emanated from Susanna and her man. The young woman's eyes were red and swollen, most likely from several days' worth of intermittent crying. Mr. Northman, who was holding Susanna to him like he was her scaffold, looked no less distraught, though his expression was a mixture of grief and concern for the woman next to him. Sid Matt had seen Eric's look before too—though sadly not as often as Jason's or Michelle's. It was the look of an individual who was saddened by the death of someone—but mostly because of the sorrow that had been left behind in someone else. It was one of the more unselfish reactions to death that Sid Matt had witnessed over the years, and the elderly attorney immediately liked the young man even more than he had at the hospital.

"Why don't we all have a seat," Sid Matt invited. It didn't escape his notice that Mr. Northman waited until Michelle and Jason had chosen their seats before leading Susanna as far away from them as possible and putting himself between them as well. He also noticed the gentle look exchanged between the couple as Eric helped her take off her coat and then pulled out her seat for her. Eric was offering her all of his strength for what was to come, and Susanna was thanking him with her eyes.

Sid Matt smiled a little as he sat down. At his age, he had come to understand that it was often the simplest things that were the most profound and the most permanent. And he knew that looks like the one he had witnessed indicated that the evident love between the couple would endure.

He began. "Now, I've asked Judy, my secretary, to sit in so that these proceedings can be recorded."

"Why is that necessary, Sid Matt?" Michelle asked, trying to fake congeniality.

Now that he knew her act, Sid Matt didn't have any trouble deciphering it. However, he answered as pleasantly as he could. "It's just to make sure that everything is kept above board, Michelle. It's important that Adele's final wishes are followed—don't you agree?"

Michelle, though clearly displeased, offered a curt nod and dabbed her clearly-dry eyes. "Of course. Anything for dear, _dear_ Adele."

Sid Matt looked over at Susanna. "My dear, I know this is an odd question to ask, but what would you like for me to call you? Your name is written as 'Susanna' on the legal documents, but some people in town used to call you 'Susan.' However, your grandmother always called you 'Sookie,' and so does your young man."

"Whatever's fine," the young woman responded somewhat timidly.

Michelle scoffed.

At that, Sookie sat up a little straighter and gave Michelle a look of challenge. "Actually, my friends call me Sookie, Mr. Lancaster. I'd like for you to call me that."

He smiled kindly at her even as he tried to ignore the subtle snorts of derision from the other end of the table.

"Then you must call me Sid Matt, my dear," he said. "Alright," he continued at a louder volume so that it was clear that he was addressing all those present. "This shouldn't take too long. I'll read the Will and the codicil. Then Adele instructed me to read a letter."

Sid Matt pushed a box of Kleenex over toward Sookie but then noticed that Eric had already handed her a handkerchief. He smiled at the young man and gave him a nod.

Indeed—he liked this Eric Northman very much.

* * *

**A/N: Hello! I hope that you are ready for the next "cycle" of **_**Touch the Flame**_**! I'll try to get you at least two more chapters this week.**

**Thanks to those of you who commented on the last "cycle!" I really appreciate your sticking with me as I switch from one story to another. **

**I hope you enjoyed seeing things from Sid Matt's POV. Many of you have been wanting to "see" Michelle's unpleasantness in action. Buckle up!**

**Until then,**

**Kat **

**Remember to check out my wordpress to see Sephrenia's banners for the characters. (californiakat1564 . wordpress . com)**


	12. Chapter 12: Bequest

**Chapter 12: Bequest**

Sookie was squeezing his hand tightly, but Eric didn't care about any discomfort he was experiencing. He knew that she needed to hold onto him with all her might at that moment, and he intended to make sure she didn't lose her grip, so he moved his chair so that it was flush with hers and put one of his long arms around her shoulders.

He saw Sookie biting her lip signaling her nervousness as Sid Matt began to speak again: "The Will begins with Adele Stackhouse's declaration of sound mind. The document is dated March 12, 2009 and replaced an earlier Will. I was Adele's attorney of record and hereby testify to her mental acuity. The witnesses of the Will were Mrs. Maxine Fortenberry and Mr. Bud Dearborn. The property is divided according to person, and I will read aloud Adele's words on the division if that is amenable to you all."

"A-men-able?" Jason asked. "Is that fancy lawyer talk?"

Sid Matt sighed but spoke with patience. "I'm just asking if that's okay with y'all, Jason."

Jason nodded his agreement, as did the others in the room.

Sid Matt glanced at Sookie and then looked back at Jason. He read: "To my grandson Jason Stackhouse, I leave the house at 125 Mulberry Road. I also leave $5,000.00 to cover the property taxes for a couple of years, which will help Jason adapt to home ownership. In addition, Jason is to have his grandfather's wedding ring and stopwatch, both of which the executrix can pass along to him through Sid Matt Lancaster."

"Who's the executrix?" Michelle half-asked and half-demanded.

Sid Matt sighed. "Sookie," he said evenly.

Michelle scoffed. "It should have been me—as Adele's daughter-in-law."

Sid Matt gave Michelle a look that thankfully shut her up for a moment and then continued reading. "To Michelle Stackhouse: I leave $1,000 on the condition that the directions in the letter accompanying this document are followed."

"That's all? That's all I get? After everything I did for her?" Michelle asked in an indignant and demanding tone.

"Michelle," Sid Matt said sternly. "Please refrain from outbursts."

Michelle sank back into her seat and seethed.

"To Susanna Stackhouse, my beloved granddaughter," Sid Matt continued reading, "I leave the remainder of my estate, including the house and property on Hummingbird Lane and all other monies and property. I also nominate Susanna Stackhouse as the executrix of this Will. I hope that I will not carry much debt when I pass, and I have already paid for my funerary and burial costs; however, I leave it up to Susanna to take care of all remaining debt that I leave behind."

"How much money?" Michelle demanded in Sookie's direction. "How much did she swindle that poor woman for?"

"Why ain't I gettin' half? Five thousand and that house ain't half," Jason piped in.

Sid Matt sighed again, this time more noticeably. "There is a codicil to the Will, which I will read now. It was completed just last August."

"What the hell's a con-di-cin-al?" Jason asked.

"It's an extra part," Sid Matt explained.

"Does that mean I get extra stuff?" Jason inquired.

Sid Matt ignored Jason's question and soldiered on. "The codicil doesn't change Jason's inheritance and the money set aside for Michelle. However, it does include a few more provisions; Adele made it up after she'd been reunited with her other granddaughter, Hadley." He took a breath and then read. "To Hadley Delahoussaye-Savoy and Remy Savoy, I leave $5,000. To Hunter Savoy, I leave $5,000, which I direct Susanna to place into a trust for him so it will be ready for his college—should he choose to go. If he does not, the fund is to be released to him when he turns 21."

"A little kid gets more than me!" Michelle cried out, obviously losing control of the false front she'd been trying to display for Sid Matt. "But I was married to her son and had her grandkids!"

Sid Matt gave her a stern look. "Unfortunately, Hadley and Remy were not able to attend today due to Remy's having to work; however, I've told them that they have been named in the Will. And I will contact Hadley with the specifics after this meeting." He turned to look at Sookie and Eric. "And they told me to tell you that they'll be at the funeral, Sookie—if you wish to speak to them about the trust. And Hadley asked me to give you her phone number too since she didn't get to see you the other night."

Sookie nodded.

"There are just a few more gifts that Adele indicated in her codicil." He read, "To Mrs. Elsa Larsson: I give my enduring thanks. I am so grateful that I found a new best friend—a sister—before I died. I also leave her my prized cookbooks under the condition that she not share my secrets with anyone else except for Sookie who may copy anything she wishes."

Eric and Sookie both chuckled a little, even as Sookie wiped away a tear.

"Who the fuck's this Elsa person?" Jason demanded.

"My grandmother," Eric said stiffly.

Michelle sighed dramatically as if she were being physically hurt by Adele's will, but Sid Matt went on. "To Eric Northman, I leave my father's compass and these words from Edmund Spenser's _The Faerie Queene_:

What though the sea with waves continual

Doe eat the earth? It is no more at all,

Ne is the earth the less, or loseth ought:

For whatsoever from one place doth fall

Is with the tide unto another brought:

For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought."

[from Book V canto ii verse 39]

Eric sniffled noticeably.

Sid Matt looked at the young man, whose eyes were now shining with unshed tears. "Adele included a personal message with the poem." He read, "Eric, you once quoted this stanza to me when we were talking about my love of _The Fairie Queene_. You said you'd had to memorize it for a class, but I don't want you to just have it in your head, Eric. I want you to find these words in your heart and live them with my dearest Sookie."

There was silence in the room for a few moments. Jason and Michelle both seemed confused by the words of the poem, while Sookie had turned to bury her face in Eric's chest. In turn, his face was in her hair. Sid Matt just let everyone be for a moment.

Michelle was the one who broke the quiet of the room. "Is that all?" she asked, no longer holding in her disdain for Eric and Sookie.

"There's a letter," Sid Matt reported even as he opened a sealed envelope, "but I'm not sure what's in it."

"Well—read it quick," Michelle said sharply and haughtily. "Jason and I need to call our attorney. This Will isn't fair to him! He's Adele's oldest grandson—for God's sake! So _he_ should get her estate—not some prodigal who abandoned her family!"

Sid Matt sighed. "I assure you—Adele's Will is iron clad, and only a spouse or a child can contest a Will in the state of Louisiana. Since neither one of you is that, you have no case."

Michelle practically growled. "I won't see _her_ gettin' a damned penny!" she seethed toward Sookie.

"Then you'll have to close your eyes," Sid Matt said firmly, "because—even if you did have the right to contest the Will—no judge in the state would find Adele's bequeaths to be inequitable."

"But Grandma was loaded!" Jason cried. "She and Grandpa lived in a mansion in New Orleans."

Sid Matt shook his head and decided to set Michelle and Jason straight so that things might be a little easier for Sookie. Maybe talking about the size of the estate wasn't proper, but it seemed right.

"Actually," the attorney stated, "most of the money from the sale of Adele and Earl's _modest_ New Orleans home was used to finish paying off the Mulberry Street house that you and your mother did _not_ pay for, Jason! The rest of the money was used to make some necessary repairs on the farmhouse when Adele moved into it. And once Adele's final medical bills are paid and the monetary gifts to you two and Hadley's family are given out, the majority of Adele's liquid property will have been gone through. Thus, Sookie will not end up with any more money than Jason."

"But she gets the farmhouse and all that property!" Michelle complained.

"And Jason gets a property that's worth almost as much and that's easier to keep up," Sid Matt sighed. "Now—let me read Mrs. Stackhouse's letter so that we can adjourn these proceedings."

Michelle sighed loudly, but gestured for him to continue, even as she went to light up a cigarette.

"Not in here," Eric said gruffly, his voice oozing authority. Eric didn't mind the smoke, but he knew that Sookie would be bothered by it.

Michelle glared at him, but shoved the cigarette back into the pack nonetheless.

Sid Matt cleared his throat, "The letter was updated when Adele added the codicil." He sat up a little straighter as he began reading.

_To all present, _

_If you are hearing this letter, then it means that I've passed on. I can't help but to foresee that there may be discord because of the way I've split things up, but—to be honest—I don't rightly care. I've lived long enough to know my own mind, and I feel that I've done things fairly. _

_Jason, as my grandson, I love you very much, but you have let your mother mold you into a man who puts his own needs above others. I've tried to spend time with you over the years, but you've never shown much interest in having a true relationship with me. Heck—Sookie lives in New York, and I have spent more time in the last years with her than with you. That said—you have so much potential, Jason, and I hope that one day you will find your own place in this world. I'm leaving you the home you grew up in, and I hope that—someday—you will meet a good match and have a family of your own. _

_Sookie, I want to thank you for being such a joy to me. The moment you came to live with me, my existence brightened. I just wish I had known what kind of environment you were growing up in so that I could have helped you earlier. Earl and I should have never allowed something so petty as money to come between us and our son and grandchildren. That is my greatest regret, but my greatest pride is in you. In this last year, I have seen you blossom into the woman I always knew you could be—strong and brave. I pray that you and your Eric will have a wonderful life together, but even if things don't work out with him, I know that you can be happy. Never forget how much you are treasured and how worthy you are of being loved."_

Sid Matt paused for a moment to give Sookie a chance to wipe her eyes. "Do you need a minute?" he asked her gently.

"It's okay," Sookie said her voice a mixture of grief and strength.

Sid Matt smiled and continued:

_Hadley, I was so happy I got the privilege to reconnect with you and meet your man and your baby boy. I'm leaving you what I can to help you and Remy out, and I'm setting up something to help Hunter with his future. I'm so proud of you for turning your life around and becoming such a fine mother._

_The last thing I have to say regards Michelle Stackhouse. You know I have no love-lost for you. You blackmailed me into leaving the house on Mulberry Street to Jason (which I would have done anyway, you heartless wench). You also extorted me out of $10,000 when I wanted to take Sookie and provide her with a loving home. You did everything in your power to separate Corbett from me and his father. And, worst of all, you abused Sookie! Therefore, you might wonder why I've left you $1,000 more when it could be better spent for my grandchildren and great-grandchild. I'm afraid to say that I'm a selfish woman, and I don't want you anywhere near my funeral or my burial, so I'm paying for your absence. If you darken either of those events with your noxious presence, then the $1,000 set aside for you will be forfeit to the estate."_

"She can't do that!" Michelle screeched.

"She can," Sid Matt said matter-of-factly. "This letter was notarized and was written by her own hand. I recognize the handwriting. Plus, the Will indicates that there is a stipulation. This is it."

Michelle stood up and stormed out of the room, yelling about contacting her lawyers.

Jason glared at Sookie. "You were always trouble to this family. Just look at how you've upset Momma! If you had an ounce of decency, you'd give up the farmhouse! It shoulda gone to Daddy and now me! But Daddy's dead 'cause of bein' driven into the ground by you! Why don't you just get the fuck outta town before you do more damage?" He shook his head. "You're officially dead to me! And I hope I never have to see you again," he finished as he marched out after his mother.

Sookie let out a sob at her brother's words and then buried herself into Eric's waiting arms. Sid Matt motioned for his secretary to pause the recording until Sookie was once more composed.

"Is there more to the letter?" Eric asked the lawyer after Sookie's tears had stopped.

Sid Matt nodded and read.

_To all my grandchildren, I pray that happiness finds you and sticks to you like glue. I love you all, and I'll be waiting to see you again—but I hope that won't be for a long while."_

Sid Matt sighed. "That's all."

Eric nodded and then rose with Sookie. "I'm going to take Sookie back to Gran's house now."

Sid Matt stood and handed Eric an envelope. "Here's the key to Adele's safety deposit box. In it, you'll find all the possessions mentioned in the Will, as well as the deeds to various properties," he said quietly. "The phone number on the envelope belongs to Janet Sinclair. She's the bank manager and is expecting y'all to call. She said she'd help y'all out whenever you need—regardless of the holiday."

Eric reached out to shake Sid Matt's hand, giving him a look of both gratefulness and respect as he did so.

Sid Matt caught Sookie's eye. "I'm sorry, Sookie. I didn't know what was happening to you when you were a kid; I didn't make the effort to find out." He sighed. "I should have. No one in this town knows what Michelle Stackhouse did—what she is," he said with regret.

Sookie sighed and gave him a little smile. "The important thing is that Michelle is no longer in my life." She reached out and took the attorney's hand. "I appreciate everything you did for Gran, Sid Matt." She smiled a little wider. "Gran mentioned to me that you'd been visiting her quite a bit lately. And I know that she enjoyed your company."

Sid Matt pulled on the collar of his suit shirt and checked to make sure that the recording had been stopped. Both Sookie and Eric chuckled when they noticed the elderly man blushing.

"Um—well," Sid Matt began. "Your grandmother and I . . . ."

Sookie patted his hand comfortingly. "You were a good friend and companion to Gran, and she sounded happier over the phone during the last few months than she ever had as long as I knew her."

"She—uh—loved your grandfather very much," Sid Matt said.

"Of course she did," Sookie responded sincerely. "But Gran had a lot of love to give all the way around. I know that better than anyone."

Sid Matt nodded. "Miss Adele was a lovely woman—one of the finest I ever met," he said, his voice cracking with emotion.

Sookie nodded. "We'll see you at the funeral Sid Matt," she said, as she patted his arm one last time before taking Eric's hand and leading them out of the office.

* * *

Sookie sighed tiredly as she sank into the back seat of the car and then curled into Eric's side—at least as much as her seatbelt would allow.

"Thanks for waiting, Bobby," she said to the man who had insisted upon driving them to Sid Matt's office. Sookie suspected that it was just so Eric would be able to keep ahold of her. And she appreciated Bobby's gesture more than she'd ever be able to express.

"Don't worry about it, Sookie," he said kindly. "Did everything go okay?"

Eric gave Bobby a look that indicated that he shouldn't ask, but Sookie answered, "My mother and my brother were unimaginable assholes. But my mother won't be coming to Gran's funeral—not if she wants the bribe money Gran left her, so that's something at least." Sookie smirked a little. "Gran really was a pistol, Bobby. She left Michelle $1,000, but only on the condition that she not attend the funeral or burial." She chuckled. "So Gran wins either way. If she doesn't show, then Gran doesn't have to deal with her—not even from heaven. And if she does show, Gran gets the satisfaction of knowing that she won't get that money."

Bobby chuckled. "Your gran was my kind of lady!"

Sookie smiled and looked up at Eric. "Can we go by the bank on the way to Gran's and see if it's open?"

He quirked an eyebrow in question. "You want to do that now?"

"I want to go ahead and get a sense of the money situation and clean out the safety deposit box today. I know that the bank will be closed tomorrow since it's New Year's Day, and I want to make some decisions before the funeral." She sighed. "I wanna get home—to Manhattan—just as soon as we can after the funeral."

"Sure," Eric said kissing her forehead. "And if it's not open, we'll call Miss Sinclair. Bobby, do you know where the bank in town is?"

Eric caught Bobby's eyes rolling in the rearview mirror. "Eric, Bon Temps has exactly two stop lights and two major streets. I think I can find it."

"I wouldn't want you to strain yourself," Eric deadpanned, eliciting a giggle and a kiss from Sookie.

Bobby grumbled something about successfully navigating one of the largest metropolises in the world on a daily basis, but gave Sookie a wink in the rearview as they traveled the two blocks that separated Sid Matt Lancaster's office from the bank.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for all the comments about the last chapter. I really appreciate them! Most of you seemed to enjoy Sid Matt's perspective! (And to my guest critic who believes that I've gone too far with the exposition—sorry it's not to your taste. Writing fanfiction allows me to tell stories in a sprawling way, explore the perspectives of secondary characters, and dwell on certain things that touch me. While I want all to be satisfied, it won't happen. I'm sorry if I'm boring you. You are not the first to find me long-winded. On the other hand, others have pointed to the very thing you critiqued as their favorite thing about my writing. I hope that the story will pick up for you. And—please remember that I delete all negative comments from anonymous posters. Even though yours was not bad, I stick to that policy. Feel free to sign in and leave your critique next time. I cannot "bite" via the Internet—any more than you can via a review—but I do like the opportunity to answer my critics.) **

**As for the rest of you, thanks so much for the continued support of the story and me! Much love to you!**

**Will Michelle try to crash the funeral? And—if so—will the spitfire who's been developing in Sookie finally rear her head (especially if she's not in a public place—like a hospital or lawyer's office)? **

**Until next time,**

**Kat**


	13. Chapter 13: Unexpected Guest

**Chapter 13: Unexpected Guest**

Given the taxing nature of the Will reading, Eric didn't plan anything too elaborate for New Year's Eve—though it was the first New Year's he and Sookie would be spending together.

He had found some nice steaks at the supermarket the day before, and one thing that he had learned how to cook well was a steak. And given the relatively mild temperatures in Louisiana, even during winter, he didn't mind grilling outside either. Of course, Sookie had insisted that Bobby come for dinner. He'd been staying in the town's only motel since Sookie didn't feel right about anyone staying in Gran's room, and up until that afternoon, the guestroom had been cluttered with things that Sookie needed to go through.

Bobby flicked the ashes of his cigarette away from where the grill had been set up.

"You got a New Year's resolution?" Eric asked his friend as he flipped the steaks.

"Other than to stop smoking these?" Bobby asked with a chuckle.

Eric laughed a little. "It _would_ be nice to have you around longer. And the thought of losing you to something like lung cancer does _not_ make me feel all happy inside."

Bobby shrugged. "You know me. I'll probably become a vampire long before that happens."

Eric chuckled a little harder. "You are well on your way."

"What about you?" Bobby asked. "Resolutions?"

Eric exhaled deeply. "Just Sookie—keeping her as happy as I can."

Bobby nodded, knowing that would keep his friend happy too.

"Is everything arranged for Thursday?" Eric asked.

"Yeah," Bobby responded. "The funeral director here is a bit of a creep, but he seems competent enough now that he's back to work after his bout with the flu. He's going to make sure Adele is at the church three hours before the funeral on Thursday, and I've already arranged with the preacher that you and Sookie can go in well before the rest of the congregation is allowed in."

Eric nodded. "And the other things?"

Bobby took a drag of his cigarette. "Adele had most everything arranged already. Casket, plot, service, songs, readings, contact list—everything."

"And the flowers? Have we been able to get Gran's favorites?"

Bobby sighed. "It was difficult, but I have some arrangements of white lilies coming in from Nashville. And—from New York—Pam's rustling up some more. Hell the whole church will probably be full of them by the time she's done."

Eric smiled a little. "I know Pam wants to be here for Gran."

"But she also understands that her leaving suddenly would make Appius even more suspicious. The flowers are her way of taking care of Gran—and you and Sookie—from New York."

"Yeah," Eric replied sadly. He sighed and continued angrily. "Fucking Appius! The fucking king of separations! Pam should be able to be here without him being an issue." He raked his hand through his hair. "Between Sweden and Thanksgiving, she spent a lot of time with Gran."

"She understands, Eric."

"She shouldn't have to."

Bobby nodded and the two were silent for a few minutes.

"Quite a few flower arrangements have been brought by townspeople too," Bobby reported as he lit another cigarette. "Mike Spenser's assistant told me that the viewing area was quite full today—of both well-wishers and flowers."

Eric nodded in acknowledgment. "And the guard? He was there during the entire viewing?"

"Yes. But neither Michelle nor Jason visited Adele's body at the funeral home today, and there's no viewing tomorrow because of the holiday."

Eric nodded again. "They'll probably try to steal the goddamned wedding band from her finger if they show up!" he vented as he poked the steak to check its doneness.

"Yeah. Those two are a fucking piece of work." Bobby smirked. "Appius and Michelle would have been a match made in hell had they'd ever met."

Eric cringed. "Let's hope they never do."

"Unless it's in hell where they meet," Bobby observed as he flicked his cigarette. They were silent for a few more minutes.

"What time should I make myself scarce tonight? I know you'll want alone time with Sook," Bobby said knowingly.

Eric chuckled. "Now?"  
"Sookie would have your hide _and_ my hide if I left without dinner."

"She'll want you to stay at least until midnight. And she cleared out the guestroom earlier, so she's gonna ask you to stay the night too. Just get drunk enough to pass out so that I can convince her to have some fun with me later," Eric said with a smirk.

"Well—I _did_ buy a lot of liquor," Bobby said.

"Sounds good," Eric said with a laugh.

* * *

It was just after 7:00 p.m. The dinner dishes had been cleared away, and Bobby was explaining the rules of _Monopoly_ to Eric and Sookie when there was a knock on the door. Eric and Bobby immediately looked at each other nervously. The guards that Eric had hired were at entrance of the driveway, and they hadn't called to inform them of any visitors.

Bobby was on his cellphone to the guards almost before the second knock was heard. And Eric was on his feet, instinctively putting Sookie behind his body as they both looked at the door.

"Did anyone pass you?" Bobby asked in a low tone once the guard had answered his call.

He shook his head to indicate to Eric and Sookie that the knocker had not come past the guards.

"Get down here," Bobby said into the phone.

Tentatively, Bobby headed to the front door, just as there was another knock. Bobby looked out the peep hole and then asked in a loud voice. "Who's there?"

The visitor yelled out a name that caused Sookie to turn ghostly pale.

"Bill Compton."

* * *

Eric looked at Sookie, who was looking at the door in shock.

"Anything you want, min älskade," he said to her in a loud whisper. "We'll do anything you want."

Sookie looked up at Eric and realized that he truly did mean _anything_. If she asked him and Bobby to kick Bill's ass, they would do it. If she asked them to kill him, they would do it. Hell—if she asked them to try to rid Bill of his annoyingly old-fashioned Southern accent, they would likely provide the elocution lessons themselves.

She smiled and looked at Bobby, who also seemed ready to obey any order she gave. She couldn't help but to relax—despite the unwelcome visitor.

"You know I love you—both of you—right?"

Eric was a bit taken aback.

"In _radically_ different ways—of course," Sookie corrected with a chuckle as she looked up at Eric once more.

Bobby smiled a lopsided grin. "Thank God for that. I don't need the Viking after me."

"The Viking?" Sookie asked.

Eric rolled his eyes. "It's what he used to call me when we were younger."

"It fits," Bobby returned, shrugging his shoulders. "By the time he was twelve, he was taller than me."

"Susanna?" called Bill from outside the door, breaking the exchange between the three friends.

"What do you want?" Eric asked Sookie.

Sookie took a deep breath. "I'll talk to him. I want to know why he's here."

"Alone?" Eric asked with some trepidation.

"Hell no!" Sookie exclaimed. "I mean—if you'll stay with me. . . ."

Eric cut her off by taking her into his arms. "Hell yes!" he smiled.

* * *

_**Ten minutes earlier**_

As Bill Compton traipsed over the rough terrain between the house he'd rented and the newly-deceased Adele Stackhouse's residence, he regretted wearing his newly-shined shoes.

However, he'd wanted to look his best when he talked to Susanna and tried to convince her that none of what had happened between them in the past had been his fault. It had all been the fault of his boss and then Lorena.

Susanna would just have to understand that!

Truly, two years earlier, Bill had been ready to make Susanna's life better—_a lot_ better than it had been. Moreover, if his plan hadn't been sabotaged by Lorena, Susanna would have ended up as an indispensable asset to the U.S. government: a patriot.

And—most importantly—she would have already been _his_: his asset, his wife.

Susanna Stackhouse had started off as an assignment—pure and simple. She'd been an assignment in what Bill did best: the recruitment of potentially "difficult" assets. And the scope of that assignment had come with the potential of a huge promotion for the ambitious agent.

The government was always looking for people with "gifts" that went beyond the norm, and the FBI in particular had been actively seeking out people like Susanna post-9/11.

Discovering a useable lip reader with the accuracy and subtlety of Susanna Stackhouse was harder than it might seem. Oh—adults could be trained to read lips, and many even became quite proficient, just as an adult might learn any new language. However, it was often the nuances of language—the whispers or the asides or the mumbles—that held the greatest secrets.

Many deaf people were also skilled at reading lips, but they didn't function in the same way as the hearing did, and once their disability was found out, then the possibility of their being able to read lips was recognized. Strangely enough, "hearing" people weren't suspected of having the skill.

No. Someone like Susanna didn't come around often. And she could read anything—including foreign languages she didn't know—with almost 100% accuracy. And—even when she didn't understand a word—she could produce it phonetically. Bill knew that firsthand from the various "tests" he'd conducted when they were together.

The Bureau had found out about Susanna from her mother, Michelle Stackhouse. Apparently, Susanna's mother had read an article about a lip-reader bringing down a huge terrorist cell in the Middle East, and she'd seen the opportunity to serve her country and to make a little cash for her family at the same time.

Sadly, Susanna—like many teens—had rebelled against her mother's influence.

Susanna Stackhouse's preliminary evaluation had labeled her as "a promising prospect," though "potential recruitment difficulties" were also noted. That's why someone with Bill's skills was called in. Bill had initially traveled to Bon Temps to meet with Michelle and to further assess Susanna's skill-set. And, after meeting Michelle, Bill couldn't fault the woman's patriotism or her pragmatism.

Bill's assessment had led him to believe that Susanna was a rare talent indeed! But she would need to be handled with kid-gloves. In fact—after an especially fruitful conversation with Michelle—he'd determined that seduction should be his chief strategy in Susanna's recruitment. And his superiors had green-lit his proposal.

Bill had hypothesized that since Susanna had been deaf for so long, she'd developed anti-social tendencies, which wouldn't do at all for the kind of work the Bureau wanted her to do. By observing Susanna from afar, Bill had confirmed his theory before he even approached her. She was excellent at almost "disappearing" and staying out of sight, but to be a good spy required fitting in as well. And she didn't fit in—not at all!

However, after their first encounter—Bill's first test of her skill—he became convinced that he could train her, given time. And—by playing the knight in shining armor and risking himself to "save" her from her "attackers," who were actually men on the Bureau's payroll—Bill had quickly found his way into her life.

Soon after that, Bill had become her boyfriend. At first, being an attentive paramour had been only a job to him. God knows, he'd done worse things to recruit people. Yes—he'd felt a little guilty about taking her virginity and getting her to fall in love with him. But—as he saw it—he had also been doing her a favor. After all, she'd been well into her 20s and had no other men looking to date her. He recognized almost immediately that he was the best prospect that she would likely ever have, and he was resolved to go through with an engagement and a marriage because of her potential value to the Bureau.

But somewhere along the line, he'd started to truly care for Susanna, and the day she'd claimed that she never wanted to see him again was the day that Bill realized that he just might love her. A few weeks after that, he became certain that he did.

Of course, Susanna's finding out the truth from Lorena, his on-and-off-again lover and fellow FBI agent, wasn't helpful to Bill's cause at all! He'd tried to talk to Susanna after that horrible day when Lorena had "visited" her, but she wouldn't listen to him! And then—quite suddenly—she'd moved.

As an FBI agent, it had been easy enough for Bill to track down Susanna in Brooklyn. But—truth be told—Bill had been rewrapped into Lorena's web after Susanna left. He'd sought comfort after he'd realized that his caring for Susanna wasn't all an act, and Lorena had been there. She'd "seemed" loving; she'd "seemed" contrite. However—like it always was between him and Lorena—their passion quickly flared into destructiveness.

Bill's superior at the Bureau, Nan Flanagan, hadn't been happy with his losing a promising asset, but—like any operation that involved personal entanglements—there was always a risk of failure. And, thankfully, Nan had recognized that the fault was mostly Lorena's.

Yes—it had been Lorena who had ruined his long-term plans with Susanna. Bill sighed. Had Lorena just stayed away, he would be married to Susanna even now!

The plan had been simple—logical and beneficial to all. Bill needed to help Susanna reach the point that she was—for lack of a better word—"normal" enough to operate in social settings. After that, another agent would have approached Susanna, and Bill—as her husband—would have encouraged her to serve her country. Later, he would have "become" an agent too—"just so that he could be with her." Indeed, it had been a perfect plan, and Susanna would have been kept in the dark about how she'd been recruited. She would have remained docile and complacent—agreeable.

However, a month before his Bureau-approved plan called for him to officially propose to Susanna, Lorena had come to town. And—being the seductress that she was—she'd quickly manipulated Bill into seeking out her bed.

It was after a week or two with Lorena that Bill had made an error. Agents were rarely able to confide in others about their assignments, but since Lorena had the same clearance level as he did, Bill had been able to vent about his assignment to procure Susanna Stackhouse. And Lorena, always the temptress, had compelled him to tell her about the whole ten-year plan that Bill had developed for Susanna: seduce, marry, procure, stabilize. And then, after those ten years—if he so chose—Bill could initiate a divorce from Susanna as long as the asset was deemed "sound" enough by Bureau psychiatrists to deal with the mental strain of the break-up as well as to continue her work.

It wasn't even that Bill had been unhappy about the arrangement. His cover—working on his doctorate degree in computer engineering—actually offered him a stimulating diversion from his usual research work. And Susanna—at least in the small doses that his plan required for him to be with her—had been perfectly tolerable, a nice change from the norm.

Plus, after being with Lorena, it had been nice to have an innocent in his bed. Someone like Susanna better-suited Bill's more conservative notions about sex, and after a little guidance and instruction from him, she'd been able to offer him a good release a few times a week and a relationship from which he knew exactly what to expect. Yes. In so many ways, Susanna had been—would be—the ideal woman for him.

On the other hand, Lorena was much more adventurous sexually—even dominant at times. And she'd tried to bring that dominance into all aspects of their previous relationship. Bill had found Lorena's aggressive tendencies to be both irresistible and off-putting, and he hated his own ambivalence toward her.

In fact, Bill had hoped that his assignment with Susanna—as well as his personal relationship with the young woman—would help him to resist the pull Lorena had on him.

Sadly, it had not.

That was how he'd come to find himself exhausted and in bed with his former lover exactly one month before he was to take Susanna to an expensive French restaurant and propose to her. The Bureau had even agreed to foot the bill so that the restaurant would be clear of people too; Bill had known that that gesture would have made all the difference in the world to the introvert. The plan was then to elope and honeymoon in Vermont where the Bureau had a nice cabin that had been used to hide assets in the past. There would be privacy and quiet—just the things that Susanna craved. And there, Bill had planned to get the ball rolling by introducing her to the notion that there were a lot of things that she might do with her unique skill.

But Bill had found himself once more entangled with Lorena—almost obsessively so. And—if anything—confiding in her about his assignment with Susanna seemed to make things better between Lorena and himself. Bill was able to vent his dissatisfactions with the assignment's duration. And Lorena had been quite understanding, having just finished a long-term assignment of her own. They had commiserated together, and Lorena had seemed to have calmed down a little during the year they'd been apart.

Oh—she was still quite adventurous sexually, but Bill actually found himself craving Lorena's appetites to offset the somewhat monotonous physical repertoire he'd established with Susanna. He found that the two women balanced each other out in a way that he liked. Indeed, for those few blissful weeks when he'd been seeing both women, his life had been perfect. He liked being able to keep the parts of his own personality separate from one another too. With Lorena he could be straightforward and let loose a little. With Susanna, he could be more serious and conservative.

And—given the fact that Lorena had six months of vacation, a reward after the project she'd just completed—Bill had looked forward to keeping things as they were for a while.

However, Lorena began to show signs of displeasure when Bill had to attend to his weekly visits with Susanna. She even convinced him to cancel a few—to tell Susanna that he had projects due in his courses and needed time to finish them.

But Bill couldn't cancel every meeting he had with Susanna; after all, being with her was his job. And he quickly realized that he missed the young woman's unquestioning devotion to him when he didn't see her. Susanna was steady and completely predictable, and—because of that—she was a balm to the erratic moodiness of Lorena.

Bill's fatal error had come when he'd confessed to Lorena that part of him cared for Susanna Stackhouse. Lorena had casually asked Bill what he would do if Susanna accidentally got pregnant. Bill had been doubling up on the birth control methods—using both condoms and asking Susanna to get on the pill before they had sex—but he found himself not completely opposed to the idea of having Susanna as the mother of his child. Even if they eventually divorced, he could continue to play a part in a child's life. Plus, being a "family man" was an excellent cover for any agent.

When he told Lorena his thoughts on the matter, she'd flown off the handle, yelling that they were destined to be with each other and that she wouldn't allow Susanna to get in their way. The encounter had had a little bit too much "crazy" in it for Bill's tastes, so he'd left Lorena to stew for a while—and to hopefully pull herself back together.

Only—she didn't just stew. She'd gone to visit Susanna.

Bill looked up at the old home of Adele Stackhouse as he approached. He'd rented the house across the way from the Stackhouse farm a few other times before. The first was when he came to Bon Temps to check out Michelle Stackhouse's story.

He smiled a little at the memory of that first visit. He'd found Michelle to be extremely accommodating to him, and she'd given him a lot of background on the development of Susanna's ability. He'd admired the mother's desire to make sure that Susanna "mainstreamed" with normal kids. Lip-reading had allowed her to do just that, and Michelle had apparently worked long hours with Susanna during her childhood in order to hone the skill.

Then—when Susanna was older and her grieving and newly-widowed grandmother had moved back to town—Michelle had sacrificed time with her own daughter so that the elderly Adele Stackhouse would not be alone. Adele, who apparently had quite a bit of money from the sale of a home in New Orleans and her husband's estate, had taken Susanna to a specialist, and—much to Michelle's surprise—a cure was found for her daughter's deafness. Michelle had been overjoyed.

Michelle had explained that Susanna was severely withdrawn—as was to be expected, given the situation. She'd also told Bill that the only reason why she hadn't broached the idea of joining the FBI with her daughter was that she knew Susanna wouldn't agree to it—at least not without a "tender" kind of persuasion. The twenty thousand dollars Michelle had settled for in exchange for all the information she'd given Bill had been quite modest compared to what the Bureau would have been willing to pay her; however, the money guaranteed Michelle Stackhouse's silence. She signed an agreement not to speak of her dealings with Bill or the FBI to anyone—especially Susanna.

Bill had returned to Bon Temps and the isolated old residence across the cemetery from Adele Stackhouse's home two other times in order to get more information on Susanna. Plus, he'd struck up a dalliance with Michelle, who—though fifteen years older than he—was a pleasant lover. Of course, once he'd begun sleeping with Susanna, he'd halted things with Michelle—for propriety's sake.

Bill sighed. He was extremely happy that Susanna had never found out about that affair. Susanna had been rather reticent about sharing personal information with him, though he'd discovered that her relationship with her mother was, indeed, somewhat strained. Bill figured that was because of the way Michelle had pushed her daughter to perfect her lip-reading skill so that she could function better in society. He knew that children often resented their parents for driving them to excel in some area—whether it be in academics or athletics. Bill had similar resentment toward his own father, whose expectations for his son had seemed insurmountable at times. Susanna's attitude toward her mother had simply been brought on by an unusual trigger.

Bill tripped over a loose piece of gravel and slowed his pace. Once again, he felt his bitterness toward Lorena rise.

In usual Lorena fashion, she'd left him to "pursue other opportunities" not long after Susanna had left Mississippi—not long _after_ Bill had covered for her with the Bureau.

Bill had kept Lorena's name out of his official report explaining why the pursuit of Susanna as an asset should be terminated; he'd simply stated that Susanna was too anti-social to ever make a good agent. He'd also conveyed that Susanna had several "tells," which just wouldn't do for the kind of work they had in mind for her. It wasn't a total lie. After all, Susanna _did_ tend to alert people to her "otherness" by her general demeanor and by staring a little too long for comfort. And though he'd tried to guide her in the art of subtlety after she'd "told" him of her lip-reading, she hadn't yet progressed to the point that she seemed "normal" yet.

After Nan Flanagan had accepted his recommendation that Susanna was not a viable candidate for recruitment after all, Bill had been given his next assignment: researching a young man named Barry in Dallas—another lip-reader. Lorena had followed him to Dallas for a time, but after she left, Bill had begun to realize that he'd had some genuine affection for Susanna, affection that still hadn't gone away.

Unfortunately, the timing had never been right for Bill to try to make amends with Susanna. Though Barry had been a much easier target to acquire, he'd been less skilled than Susanna, so Bill had needed to oversee his training. And, given that and a few more visits from Lorena over the previous two years, Bill simply hadn't had the opportunity to get from Dallas to New York for an adequate amount of time to woo Susanna properly. However, Bill was not one to lament the past. He figured that time was his ally. By now, Susanna would have had time to process what Lorena had told her, and he was confident that she'd already forgiven him. He smiled a little as he thought of Susanna pining away for him as she tried to maneuver through Manhattan like a scared mouse.

He would offer to save her from that life.

Yes. If she hadn't done so already, Susanna would soon come to see that Bill had had no choice but to do what he'd been ordered to do by the Bureau. And once he explained that he really did care for her—that he had only been trying to do what was best for her—he was confident that she would accept him back into his life.

And Michelle Stackhouse had given him the perfect opportunity to reconnect with her! Despite what had happened with Lorena, Michelle had always been sympathetic to Bill's cause and had promised that she would do what she could to get her daughter to listen to reason about him—all the while pretending that she had no idea that Bill was with the FBI. Sadly, Michelle had been unsuccessful; however, when she'd called him earlier that day, Bill had definitely been given reason to hope.

After quickly securing his lodging, he'd cancelled his New Year's Eve date and had driven from Dallas to Bon Temps without any hesitation at all.

Susanna's grandmother's death was a tragedy, but it was a fortuitous one for Bill. And, according to Michelle, Susanna would be in Bon Temps until at least the weekend. Given the fact that it was only Monday night, that would give him several days to try to convince her to give him another chance. Michelle had warned Bill that Susanna had some boyfriend from New York with her. However, Michelle was concerned that this man, Eric Northman, was abusing her daughter, and she'd begged Bill to swoop in and save the day once again.

Bill intended to do just that!

After a little research, Bill couldn't help but to share Michelle's concern. He'd texted Michelle a picture of the man he feared would be the "Eric Northman" that Michelle had been referring to, and she'd confirmed his suspicions. Bill had known for a while that Susanna was working at Northman Publishing, and apparently, she'd fallen in with Eric Northman, the heir apparent to the publishing empire.

Bill's first feeling had been anger that Susanna had moved on to someone else.

However, once he'd thought through the matter rationally, Bill began to understand what must have happened. Northman was well-known for being a womanizer. And—in Bill's experience—it was not uncommon for powerful men to be abusive; after all, they figured that their power could shield them from any domestic crimes they committed. Susanna would have been easily manipulated by such a man. And—even if Northman wasn't physically abusing Susanna—he was way out of her league! And he would break her heart.

Bill was determined to stop that for happening.

Armed with evidence proving Northman's man-whore ways, Bill planned to swoop in and help Susanna to see that Northman was all wrong for her—that he was just using her. He figured that flashing his badge and giving Northman some empty threats would be enough to make the wealthy prick run back to New York. His kind were always quick to cut their losses at the first sign of trouble. And that would leave Bill to help Susanna pick up the pieces of both a failed relationship and her grandmother's death.

Indeed, Bill was confident that it would be easy enough to convince Susanna that he was the best option available for her. And—even better—he would be able to be completely honest with her now. He smiled. If he was lucky, he'd be in Susanna's bed before the end of the night. And, if he was very lucky, he might even convince her that using her skill for the government was her civic duty. Then they could go on to do what they had been meant to do. He would be her handler and her husband. And she would be his asset and his wife.

He could already taste the promotion.

He climbed the steps of the front porch and knocked confidently, ready to project authority if Eric Northman answered. However, no one answered right away, so he knocked a bit louder.

When a man asked who it was, Bill made sure that he answered in a strong, deep voice. "Bill Compton," he said assertively.

Bill could hear muffled voices and light footsteps from inside the house.

"Susanna?" he called out after a few moments, making sure that his voice oozed with the kind of concern he wanted to project to her.

He heard more muffled voices, though he couldn't make out what was being said.

A moment or two later, the door was opened by a dark-haired man who looked to be in his mid-thirties. It was _not_ Eric Northman.

* * *

**A/N: Hopefully you weren't confused by the fact that Bill thinks of Sookie as "Susanna." Remember that only Sookie's friends really know to use her nickname.**

**Sorry that it took me a while to post. I've been busy, busy with work, and I've been suffering from headaches. I promise that I'm doing what I can. **

**Thanks for all the continued support for me and all my work! **

**I'm sorry to leave you with this little cliffie as I go to **_**Uninvited**_** for a week. Sorry I got you only 3 chapters of this story this week. I'll catch you here after my week with **_**Uninvited**_**!**


	14. Chapter 14: The Best Medicine

**Chapter 14: The Best Medicine **

_When a man asked who it was, Bill made sure that he answered in a strong, deep voice. "Bill Compton," he said assertively._

_ Bill could hear muffled voices and light footsteps from inside the house. _

_ "Susanna?" he called out after a few moments, making sure that his voice oozed with the kind of concern he wanted to project to her. _

_ He heard more muffled voices, though he couldn't make out what was being said._

_ A moment or two later, the door was opened by a dark-haired man who looked to be in his mid-thirties. It was not Eric Northman._

_**Bobby POV**_

Bobby appraised Bill Compton in ten seconds flat. The man in front of him was full of hubris and projected confidence, but Bobby speculated that Bill's posturing was hiding weakness of character. He really didn't know much about Bill Compton; he'd heard the name only once before from Eric. Bill Compton was Sookie's ex, and Eric had told Bobby that something had happened between them which had rattled Sookie for a while. And that information alone was enough to make Bobby dislike the man before him.

"Come in, Mr. Compton," Bobby said, keeping his own expression blank and his tone even. "Sookie has decided to speak to you."

* * *

_**Bill POV**_

Bill was thrown off his game—to say the least—by the hawk-like eyes of the man who had opened the door to Adele Stackhouse's home. He knew that it wasn't Susanna's brother; he'd seen Jason Stackhouse before. No—if Bill hadn't known better, he would have pegged the man before him as a Bureau man. He had the look of someone who'd been an agent for years.

"And you are?" Bill asked as he walked over the threshold.

"A friend of Sookie's," the man stated, his voice remaining even and indifferent.

"You mean Susanna?" Bill asked, somewhat confused.

"Hello, Bill," Susanna said from the door leading toward the dining room. "I never thought I'd see you again."

Bill immediately turned his gaze from Bobby to Susanna.

"Susanna!" he said excitedly as he took a step toward the woman who'd invaded his thoughts so many times during the two years they'd been apart. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. The first thing that he noticed was that there was a light in her eyes that hadn't been there before, and she was a little slimmer, though her curves were still apparent. He would have hardened at the anticipation of bedding her if a tower of a man wasn't standing slightly in front of her: Eric Northman.

Immediately, Bill allowed concern to take over his features. "How are you, darling? When I heard about your grandmother, I came immediately to make sure that you were okay," he emoted, making sure that his Southern accent was at its most prominent.

"How did you learn of Adele's passing?" Northman spoke up, his eyes boring into Bill even more than the other man's had.

Bill took another step forward and reached out his hand toward Eric Northman. "Hello," he said, "I'm William Compton. I'm a friend of Susanna's. And you are?"

Northman took a small step forward, though his left hand stayed locked with Susanna's.

"Eric Northman," he said, looking down at Bill's proffered hand but not taking it. "And I'm someone who knows that _no_ friend of Sookie's calls her Susanna."

* * *

_**Sookie POV**_

Hearing Bill's voice outside of Gran's door had startled Sookie and brought back a lot of unpleasant memories, especially of Lorena coming over to her house and telling her the truth about Bill and his job as a "talent scout" for the FBI.

Sookie had felt crushed at the time—betrayed and alone and empty. Hell! When Bill had rushed to her house after he'd learned of Lorena's visit, she'd almost taken him back—despite his deception. But she was a different woman now. And even if Eric hadn't been by her side, she knew that she would never fall for the likes of Bill again.

And that thought made her feel good about herself and the progress she'd made.

Still, Sookie had been afraid that she would feel vulnerable upon seeing Bill—that she'd feel sad or angry or hurt—but, in truth, she felt very little emotion. And it wasn't as if she was numb either. She knew the feeling of numbness well; it had been the emotion that had dominated her life—until she'd met Eric. No—she was not feeling that kind of empty blankness as she looked at Bill.

She wouldn't even use the term "ambivalent" to describe her feelings, for they were not mixed in any sense of the word. In fact, she felt indifferent towards Bill—curious about why he was there, but apathetic. After all the pain she'd gone through because of him in the past, she was pleased to find that she simply didn't care about him or their past anymore.

She'd moved on and was the better for that movement.

And that was when she knew for sure that she'd never really loved Bill Compton at all. Once upon a time, she'd truly believed that he was the best that the world would ever offer her, and that's why she'd been willing to settle for him. And the Bill Compton she'd been "presented with" hadn't been a horrible choice either. He'd offered her a sense of stability and some companionship, and she'd been so insecure—so isolated—that his paltry offerings had seemed sufficient. But they weren't.

The man staring at her with fake empathy—as if she were some kind of trophy to be won—hadn't even bothered to learn what she liked to be called. And he was supposed to be some kind of fucking spy! By contrast, Eric had discovered her name preference after just a few minutes. And that tiny detail told the whole story in Sookie's eyes. She tightened her grip on Eric's hand—not because she was nervous or afraid to speak with Bill, but because she loved Eric and wanted to hold him just that much tighter.

He looked down at her and winked a little. Somehow he seemed to be able to read everything that was going through her head. He could read the "real" _her_ because he too was so "real."

On the other hand, the Bill she'd met three years before had been only a lie. And the one before her now seemed to be just as much of a lie. But—frankly—she didn't care. It didn't seem worth her time to even think about someone like Bill Compton. She smiled a little. She couldn't wait to tell Claudine of her revelations!

"Susanna," Bill said, ignoring Eric's words about her preference of names. "I was hoping to be able to speak with you—in private. I'd like to convey my sympathies about your grandmother and to talk to you—about us," he finished softly.

For perhaps the first time, Sookie studied Bill's eyes—instead of his lips—when he spoke to her. Before the night of her second Northman Publishing party—when Eric's eyes had drawn her in so fully—Sookie had generally focused on people's lips as they spoke. It was a habit from when she'd had to do so in order to know what they were saying. When she knew Bill, looking into the eyes of a speaker would have been secondary to her—distracting even—for Sookie had been programmed by Michelle to get every word exactly right. Thus, she'd not had the luxury of honing the skill of matching words to eyes.

Until Eric.

After Sookie's confidence had built up a little, she and Claudine had begun to work on Sookie's eye contact with others. And she'd learned that there was so much to pick up from people's eyes. Though things had always been different with Eric in that Sookie often couldn't tear her gaze from his, she'd been slowly making progress in maintaining eye contact with others too.

She couldn't help but to wonder if what she now saw in Bill's eyes had always been there. His dark, dodgy orbs conveyed that he had a plan that he was following, a checklist ticking off in his head. They told her that he wanted to try to convince her to believe something—to believe a lie that he thought was the truth. They bespoke of false grief for Gran—false concern for her.

They were eyes that concealed as much as they revealed.

They were eyes that she didn't trust.

"There will be no private talks between you and Sookie, Mr. Compton," Eric said with a tone that brooked no argument.

Sookie kept her eyes on Bill, who seemed momentarily taken aback and intimidated by what Sookie knew was "Eric's no-nonsense work tone." She couldn't help but to chuckle a little, and she saw Eric's lip rise up into a smirk after she did.

Bill pretended to be unfazed. "Surely, Susanna can make up her _own_ mind about whom she wants to see," he said stiffly—defiantly.

"I already did," Sookie spoke up, "_before_ you were let in."

Bill looked at her in question. "Susanna?"

Sookie sighed. "I go by Sookie, Bill. I've never liked Susan or Sue or Susanna. I like Sookie."

"Sookeh?" Bill tried, his old-fashioned accent not quite handling the nickname.

Sookie sighed again, thinking that it might be better if he called her what he wanted if he was just going to butcher her name.

"Bill," she said, "I have to admit that I'm curious about why you are here and how you knew about Gran, so I'm willing to talk to you, but Eric is _not_ going anywhere."

Sookie was able to catch both the uncertainly in Bill's eye and the sneer of his lips.

"Can we get you a drink?" Bobby asked, walking around Bill and going toward the kitchen.

"Thanks, Bobby," Sookie said. "I forgot my manners. Would you like a drink, Bill? We have beer and iced tea and, of course, water."

* * *

_**Bill POV**_

"A beer would be great," Bill said, keeping his eyes on Susanna—or Sookie if that's what she wanted to be called now. Bill was excellent at adaptation. It was a part of his job, after all.

"Would you bring it to the living room?" Sookie asked the enigmatic man who had let him in. Bill was glad that he now had a name for him: Bobby.

Bobby patted Susanna's shoulder as Eric gestured toward the living room. Bill turned and walked that way.

"The house looks different," Bill commented, hoping to be able to throw Eric Northman off of his game by demonstrating his past knowledge of the dwelling—and, therefore, his history with Susanna. He also hoped to remind Susanna of the time they'd spent together in the house. They'd never made love there—for propriety's sake—but they had shared a visit with her grandmother. Given the fact that the woman was now dead, that kind of memory wouldn't be possible for Northman to make with Susanna.

"Yes," Susanna answered in a low tone. "I've been going through everything, figuring out what to save and what to give away."

Bill turned back toward Northman and Susanna, who had followed him into the room. "Of course," he said sympathetically. "I'd be happy to help you with that—now that I'm here."

"_Where_ exactly are you staying?" Northman asked. "I didn't hear a car pull up."

"I'm staying right across the cemetery," Bill said to Susanna, hoping that she would see just how much he wanted to be close to her—to help her.

"In that old mansion?" Susanna asked with interest. "Gran said that place was part of a time-share or something."

"I've rented it so that I can be here—for _you_," Bill emphasized.

Susanna smirked, an expression that Bill had never seen on her face before. In fact, she radiated a different kind of energy than he'd seen from her in the past. She was obviously more confident and sure of herself—perhaps because of the man who was taking a seat beside her on the couch.

Bill sighed. Part of him hated that he was going to have to crush Sookie's new-found spirit by telling her the truth about Eric Northman, but he knew that he would be there for her throughout the fallout. And he'd help her to regain that confidence; only this time, _he'd_ be its cause.

Bobby entered the living room and handed him an unopened bottle of beer. Bill noticed that it wasn't a twist-off.

"Bobby," Susanna said with a slight, chastising laugh.

Bobby raised his eyebrow innocently. "Yes?"

"Bobby," Susanna said again, this time more firmly.

"Fine," Bobby chuckled, grabbing the beer and quickly opening it before handing it back to Bill.

"Thank you," Bill said formally, trying not to glare at the rude man.

Ignoring Bill, Bobby looked from Susanna and Northman. "I'll be outside," he said in a gentle tone before kissing Susanna on the cheek. "_Right_ outside if you need me."

"Thanks, Bobby," Sookie responded. She shook her head a little as she watched the man leave. Northman leaned down and kissed her forehead lightly. Bill cringed slightly at the tenderness he saw between them, but then quickly restored his concerned countenance before Susanna and her current paramour turned to look at him.

"Why are you here, Bill? How did you learn about Gran's death?" Susanna re-asked her earlier questions after the front door had closed behind the mysterious Bobby.

Bill had managed to avoid those questions twice, and he'd hoped that they wouldn't be asked again. Looking at Susanna now, he determined that he wouldn't be able to avoid them. He also decided that _partial_ truth was best given the situation.

"I learned about your dear grandmother's death only today," Bill said. "Your mother phoned me. She is concerned about you. And so am I."

Northman spoke gruffly, "Michelle Stackhouse contacted you?"

Bill looked at Northman. "She knows how much I still care for Sookeh," he said with sincerity.

"How did she know where you were?" Susanna asked, her voice now a little shaky.

Bill celebrated inside. The emotion in Sookie's tone indicated that she was beginning to understand just how much he still loved her—just how much he'd do in order to retain a connection to her.

Bill decided to take advantage of that opening. "We've kept in touch out of mutual concern for you," he relayed.

She sighed. "And where does the FBI keep you these days?" Susanna asked.

Bill smiled as he saw that Eric flinched a little at the mention of the FBI. That likely meant that Susanna hadn't told her current beau about their previous relationship. He enjoyed having the upper hand over the New York businessman.

"Dallas," Bill responded.

"So you've found a new target to seduce?" Susanna asked, her tone suddenly cold.

It was Bill's turn to flinch. His Susanna would have never been so astringent with her words. Immediately, he hated Northman for his bad influence. But—then again—her tone may also have indicated jealousy; Bill took that as a good sign.

"Susanna—I mean, Sookeh—I swear that it's not like that. I told my superiors that I would _never_ again allow myself to be put into a situation like what happened to us. I know that what I did was wrong—_so_ wrong—but I was following orders. I didn't expect to fall in love with you. That's what I came to tell you, Sookeh. I love you. The two years we've spent apart has been torture for me. I want us to try again—to build a life together."

On his drive from Dallas, Bill had planned for many possible reactions from Susanna once he declared his love for her.

Laughter had not been one of them.

* * *

_**Eric POV**_

Eric was—just barely—controlling his desire to beat the man sitting across from Sookie and him into the ground. When Bill had said that Michelle Stackhouse had been the one to tell him about Gran, Eric had wanted to send Bobby across town so that he could throttle Sookie's DNA donor. And when Compton told Sookie that he loved her—with a cloying accent that made her name sound like "Sookeh"—Eric started thinking of places where he could bury the asshole's body.

Eric wasn't—not in any way, shape, or form—jealous of the man before him. From what he knew about Sookie and Bill, which admittedly wasn't much, their relationship had been based on deceit and manipulation. And Bill was obviously trying to manipulate Sookie's feelings again. That fact alone was enough to make Eric want to snap Bill's neck. What stopped him was Sookie's laughter.

"Oh God!" Sookie laughed out, leaning against Eric's side and squeezing his knee as if she could hardly contain herself. "Bill, you can't be serious!"

"I assure you, Sookeh, I am," came Bill's somewhat affronted reply. Eric couldn't blame him for being upset. It wasn't every day that a declaration of love was met with laughter. Of course, Eric was also somewhat envious of Bill on that account. Bill seemed to have no problem proclaiming his love for Sookie, even though his pronouncement was clearly suspect. For his own part, Eric was still afraid to tell Sookie that he loved her out loud—afraid that it would somehow bring the wrath of Appius Northman onto them.

Beside him, Sookie finally got her laughter under control. "You know what? Since you can't manage to say my name properly, why don't you just call me Susanna?" she said with a snicker.

Eric could feel himself literally radiating with pride for Sookie. Not only was she standing up for herself, but she also seemed like she was ready to let Bill have it. And Eric was content to sit back and enjoy the "Sookie Show."

Bill, however, seemed a bit clueless, and though his shoulders had slumped, he soldiered on. "Susanna, what we had—what we could have again—is too precious to waste."

"Precious?" Sookie asked incredulously even as she shook her head. "Bill, let me remind you of some facts that you have obviously decided don't matter. Our _whole_ relationship was based on a lie. _Everything_ you ever told me was a lie, and—worst of all—you never had any intention of telling me the truth! In fact, I would have never known anything if your unhinged lover, Lorena, hadn't sought me out. But you know what? I'm extremely thankful that she did. If she hadn't, I wouldn't have the life I have right now." She sat up a little straighter—a little prouder. "I wouldn't be the person I am now."

Eric smiled a little and bent over to brush a kiss onto Sookie's forehead. She looked at him, and as soon as their eyes met, Eric could see the pride that Sookie now had in herself. She'd never been more beautiful to him. Unable to help himself, he kissed her forehead again.

Bill interrupted the tender moment between them with his truly hideous accent. "Sookeh—Susanna, I know that I hurt you in the past, and I'm willing to spend the rest of our lives making that up to you if I have to. I just want the chance to prove myself to you, sweetheart. But," he glared at Eric, "even if you can't forgive me, you need to know that the man you are with now is _not_ who you think he is."

Sookie suddenly radiated anger as she squeezed Eric's hand. "And who is he, Bill?" she demanded, her tone now icy.

"When Michelle told me whom you were with, I looked into his background," Bill said, his voice oozing concern that Eric could tell was fake. Again, Eric wanted to throttle Bill, but he knew that it would be more satisfying to watch him dig his own grave.

"Why would you do that?" Sookie asked.

"Because I still love you. Because I want to protect you from the likes of him. Because you deserve to know the truth about him."

* * *

**A/N: Hello! I'm happy to be back to _Touch the Flame_ for the week! I'm not sure how many chapters I'll get you this week, but I'll try for at least a couple more. I'll be editing during grading breaks though b/c I've got another busy week.**

**Thanks to all who continue to follow this story. And a special thanks to all who take the time to comment. I love hearing what you have to say! Especially in high-stress weeks like this one, I get a lot of positive energy from you all! **

**Until next time,**

**Kat**


	15. Chapter 15: Just

**Chapter 15: Just**

_Bill interrupted the tender moment between them with his truly hideous accent. "Sookeh—Susanna, I know that I hurt you in the past, and I'm willing to spend the rest of our lives making that up to you if I have to. I just want the chance to prove myself to you, sweetheart. But," he glared at Eric, "even if you can't forgive me, you need to know that the man you are with now is not who you think he is."_

_ Sookie suddenly radiated anger as she squeezed Eric's hand. "And who is he, Bill?" she demanded, her tone now icy._

_ "When Michelle told me whom you were with, I looked into his background," Bill said, his voice oozing concern that Eric could tell was fake. Again, Eric wanted to throttle Bill, but he knew that it would be more satisfying to watch him dig his own grave. _

_ "Why would you do that?" Sookie asked._

_ "Because I still love you. Because I want to protect you from the likes of him. Because you deserve to know the truth about him."_

"And what truth did you discover about me?" Eric asked with mirth in his voice.

Bill leveled a glare at him. "That you are a womanizer of the worst variety! That you _never_ stay with a woman long and that you will break Sookie's heart."

"Likely more than three hundred and fifty," Sookie said, looking straight at Bill.

"Huh?" Bill grunted.

"Probably closer to three hundred," Eric corrected, picking up on what she was referring to immediately.

"It's still gross," she said, looking up at him with a grin.

"Are you saying that I am lucky _it_ didn't fall off," Eric smiled back at her.

"I'm saying that we're _both_ lucky it didn't fall off."

"What are you talking about?" Bill asked with frustration.

"The number of people I had sex with," Eric responded, "_before_ Sookie." He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips. "She believes it is gross that I had sex with so many, and—in retrospect—I must admit that I agree with her. Oh—and we are both incredibly thankful that my cock didn't fall off," he smirked.

"Very thankful," Sookie intoned under her breath.

"What about _after_ Susanna?" Bill asked Eric, his eyes narrowing.

"There is no after Sookie," Eric said to the woman next to him more than to Bill.

Sookie smiled at him before turning a frown toward Bill. "Why would you come here when I'm grieving for Gran and then tell me things that you thought would cause a rift between Eric and me?"

Obviously uncomfortable, Bill shifted a little in his seat.

"Oh," Sookie said, as realization flooded her features, "you believed that Eric had what? Traveled with me all the way to Bon Temps just so that he could seduce me into his bed? Trust me—if he'd wanted a casual tryst with me, it would have ended months ago." She shook her head disapprovingly. "Shame on you, Bill Compton. Shame on you for everything you're ever done in my regard. Shame on you for coming here and trying to use my grief in order to manipulate me into letting you back into my life."

"Susanna, I would never . . . ," Bill started.

"Yes. Yes—you would," Sookie interrupted. "You just did!" She sighed. "You know—the sad thing is that I think that you really do believe that you love me, but I'm not the person you knew, Bill. I'm not afraid to live anymore." She sighed again. "Looking back, I realize that you wanted me to stay afraid of everyone else but you; that way, I would be dependent upon you. And for that alone, I _should_ despise you, Bill. But I don't have the desire to feel anything for you. The truth is that you are a stranger to me, just as I'm a stranger to you now. And—you know what? I think things should stay that way."

"Susanna," Bill said in a strangled tone, "you can't mean this. You need to stop listening to Northman. I've seen his kind before; he will do anything to get what he wants."

"You're right about that," Eric seethed. "But that doesn't even compare to what I would do to _keep_ what I want, and I intend to keep Sookie, Mr. Compton. I intend to keep her safe from the likes of you."

Bill grunted angrily. "You think that you are so much better than I am? I could use my influence to chew you up and spit you out," he threatened, leaning forward aggressively.

From Bill's posturing, Eric recognized immediately that the other man wanted a fight; moreover, he wanted Eric to start that fight—probably so that Sookie's pity would be with him. However, Bill was wrong about that hypothesis. Eric knew that he could beat Bill to a bloody pulp and then have Sookie in his arms in the next second, but he also knew that Bill wasn't worth the effort.

"Your mother was right to be concerned about you, darling," Bill said, trying another tactic with Sookie.

It was _not_ an effective one.

Sookie shook her head. "You seem awfully chummy with my mother, Bill."

For a moment, Bill looked uncomfortable in his seat—though he quickly schooled his features. It wasn't quick enough, however. Eric had seen the guilt in his eyes.

"You've slept with Michelle Stackhouse," Eric stated with a mixture of certainty and incredulity.

The almost constipated look on Bill's face confirmed Eric's suspicion.

"When?" Sookie demanded. "Was it while we were together?"

"No," Bill said in an agonized and pleading tone. "It was before I'd even met you. I stopped things as soon as you and I began getting serious."

Sookie cringed a little. "Ew!" she said with a shiver before leveling an arctic stare at Bill. "You and I were _never_ serious. I was an assignment to you."

"Not in the end," Bill vowed. "I grew to love you—deeply."

"What _you_ felt in the end doesn't matter," Sookie said evenly.

"How did you know Michelle Stackhouse _before_ you met Sookie?" Eric asked tensely, even as pieces began clicking together in his mind.

"That's classified," Bill spat out, his jaw sticking out stubbornly.

Eric was on his feet and had Bill firmly in his grasp within seconds. The shorter man was on his toes as Eric pushed him roughly into the wall with his forearm under his throat.

Eric had moved so quickly and purposefully that Sookie gasped in his wake.

"Un-classify it! Now!" Eric ordered.

Hearing the commotion, Bobby was in the room in the next second. "Should I start digging the grave?" he intoned when he saw that Eric already had Bill well in hand.

"You'll go down for this," Bill choked out. "Assaulting a federal officer will land you in prison for years."

"Bill, _you_ are the one assaulting Eric," Sookie said, rising to her feet. "Bobby and I can both see that. You came over here without an invitation. And _you_ are the trained FBI agent in this scenario. You came after me when I turned down your proposal that we reunite, and when Eric tried to stop you, you attacked him."

"No you don't, Bill," Eric said as the man he was holding tried to reach into his jacket pocket. "And—just so you know—it's not there anymore," he mocked, even as he showed Bill that he had already taken his revolver from his pocket. Bobby approached and took the weapon from Eric.

"Standard issue," Bobby assessed.

"Tell me about Michelle Stackhouse," Eric ordered as he pushed his forearm into Bill's chest a little harder.

"She contacted the Bureau about Susanna's ability," Bill relayed, finally realizing that his life might depend upon him providing answers.

"Goddammit!" Sookie exclaimed. "_She's_ the reason you came for me?"

Immediately, Eric let Bill down and went over to embrace Sookie. Bobby still held the gun, though wasn't pointing it at Bill.

"You're under arrest," Bill said as he tried to regain his composure.

Eric rolled his eyes at the clueless man. "If I had been planning to hurt you, you would be feeling a lot more than a sore throat. I was just looking for the truth. Sookie deserves that, you son of a bitch, and I knew that you wouldn't offer it unless you felt threatened."

Bill looked confused.

Eric filled in the gaps for him. "Michelle Stackhouse is and always has been an abusive parent. In fact, she's a sadistic bitch! This morning—when she learned that Adele had barred her from the funeral and made Sookie executrix of her Will—Michelle was so angry that she decided to call in someone she thought would hurt Sookie. That someone is you!" He shook his head. "She figured that your showing up would remind Sookie of all the pain you'd caused her."

"What?" Bill asked, still obviously oblivious.

"Did Michelle get a finder's fee for telling the FBI about a valuable potential asset? Other than your _personal_ attentions—that is?" Eric scoffed. "I'll bet every single cent I have that she was paid for her information about Sookie, even as she tried to convince you that she just wanted what was best for her daughter. And you fell for her story hook, line, and sinker—I'd imagine. And then you slept with her!" Eric said with disgust.

"Not very ethical," Bobby observed with a chuckle. "Or sanitary—I'd imagine. Though the 'talent scouts' of the FBI aren't known for their ethics—or hygiene."

Sookie sat back on the couch with Eric right next to her. She looked up at Bill. "You came to me the first time armed with all kinds of information about me. You manipulated me in order to try to get ahold of a skill that I would have never developed had my mother taken me to any doctor worth his salt. But she didn't, so I lived a life of both physical and mental pain—a life in which I had no hope or happiness until Gran saved me. I even confided some things to you—told you that Michelle had mistreated me. But you _never_ believed me—did you?"

Bill looked taken aback. "I thought you were referring to how she pushed you to improve your lip-reading skills so that you could fit in."

"Bill," Sookie said, sitting up a little straighter, "my mother called you here for one of two reasons. Either she just wanted to hurt me, or she hoped that you would succeed in drawing me to you so that she could manipulate me through you. But neither one of those things is going to happen. Your presence hasn't hurt me because you aren't the person whom I thought I loved so long ago. That person never existed. And there's no way in hell that I'd ever let you into my life again!"

Eric looked at Bill with sharp eyes. "I take it that you came here tonight with the purpose of trying to get Sookie back by telling her all about your undying love for her and about my whorish ways. I take it that you also hoped to convince Sookie that your vision of her future—the Bureau's vision—was best. I'm sure that you expected to find a _Susanna_ Stackhouse here—a woman who was grieving and broken and aching for anything you chose to give." His voice was angry. "And I suspect that you hoped to convince her that she could do no better than you."

Bill looked down at his feet, clearly discomfited by Eric's spot-on assessment.

"If _that_ was your only business here, then you should go," Sookie said in a quiet, though firm voice. "And if you ever really cared anything about me, you will never listen to another word my mother says and you won't try to contact me again—whether it be for professional or personal matters."

The room was silent for a moment. Bill, who was still standing by the wall that Eric had held him against, looked defeated.

"I just want to love you, Susanna," he said in an agonized tone.

Sookie shook her head. "You might not be a bad person, Bill. Heck—I imagine in your line of work, you have to justify things to yourself so that you can live with yourself. But even if you did love me, there is no 'just' about what you want. You _just_ want a woman who is meek and grateful for the _just_ meager things you give. You _just_ want a woman willing to look the other way while you sleep with someone else. And you _just_ want a trophy to present to your superiors. I may have been 'stunted' or 'unfinished'—as you once labeled me in your reports—but I'm not _just_ the girl who left Mississippi two years ago." She took a deep breath. "The Susanna Stackhouse you wanted to find here just doesn't exist anymore. And I—for one—am glad about that!"

"Amen," Bobby said under his breath, even as Eric squeezed her hand.

"You'll just have to look elsewhere for what you want, Bill," Sookie finished.

Eric smiled. He was proud of the woman next to him—so damned proud it ached! He was proud that she'd chosen him. He couldn't imagine loving her more, but then she added words that sent his heart soaring into the stratosphere. "I could never be yours, Bill. I could never be yours because I was born to be Eric's."

Eric turned to look into Sookie's eyes, which were already looking back at him.

"And I'm yours," he vowed.

Bill sighed loudly. "So I'm too late," he said with a mixture of sadness and—_finally_—realization.

Sookie shook her head; she couldn't help but to be angry at Bill's words. She turned a scathing glare toward him. "Yes. You are too late to find the shell of a human being you knew before. Yes. You are too late to find the unhappy woman who was afraid of the world. Yes. You are too late to find the girl who would settle for so little because she thought that she was worth nothing more. You are too late for any of that."

Bill nodded sadly and walked slowly toward the coffee table; he put his business card on it.

Sookie and Eric both looked at the object as if it were a snake.

Bill looked at the couple guiltily. "I didn't know about your mother, Susanna." He sighed. "And you were right about why I came here tonight. But I hope that you believe that I _thought_ it was for the best."

Sookie nodded. "I believe you." She did believe that he thought he would be the best option for her. But he was 100% wrong.

Bill inhaled loudly. "There may be a day when things change between the two of you."

"It wouldn't matter," Sookie said.

Bill let out his breath. "Be that as it may, if you ever need anything of me—if there is _anything_ that I can do to make up for what I did in the past—I hope you will contact me."

Sookie looked down at the card.

"No strings? No expectations?" she asked him.

"None," Bill said.

Sookie sighed. "Then I won't burn it. That's the best I can offer. Bobby?" she said, looking from Bill to her friend.

"I'm on it," Bobby said as he reached for the card and put it in his pocket.

Bill sighed resignedly and then looked at Eric. "Do you know what you have?" he asked a little enviously.

"I know," Eric said immediately. "I knew the moment I laid eyes on her."

Bill sighed. "Then you're the better man." He looked at Bobby, who still held Bill's gun.

Bobby gestured toward the door.

"Goodbye, Bill," Sookie said in a neutral tone.

"Goodbye, Susanna," Bill responded before following Bobby out.

* * *

_**Bobby POV**_

"Walking me all the way to the home where I'm staying isn't necessary," Bill growled.

"When it comes to protecting those two, there isn't a limit to _necessity_," Bobby stated evenly.

"What are you? Northman's watchdog?" Bill asked crossly—obviously bitter that his plans hadn't worked out.

Bobby laughed. "When I need to be."

"Are you good at it?" Bill asked.

Bobby only nodded in affirmation, but Bill caught the movement despite the dark.

"Is he," Bill paused, "good for _her_?"

"They're good for each other," Bobby said without hesitation.

"I thought I was good for her," Bill mumbled. "I thought I would be good for her again."

"Sookie and Eric are," Bobby paused, "different—special. And they deserve their happiness after a lifetime without it."

Bill sighed as they came up to the house.

"Don't crash the funeral," Bobby warned.

Bill rolled his eyes. "I could charge Northman _and_ you for assaulting a federal agent."

"And I'm sure your superiors would love to hear how you slept with the mother of a potential asset. Or maybe the press would enjoy hearing how the FBI recruits unsuspecting young women with seduction."

Bill glared at Bobby. "You have no proof."

"No. You don't have proof—not of assault," Bobby said. "Plus, he grinned and held up his phone, "these things record—you know. And they also email those recordings to my emergency account which gets released to the public if I am prematurely eliminated." He handed Bill his gun.

"Who the fuck are you?" Bill asked, not for the first time that night.

"I'm their friend," Bobby said as he received a text. He grinned. It was from Eric—telling him to take his time coming back.

Bill scoffed and dragged his feet up toward the front door.

Bobby followed the retreating man with his eyes. Bill was a chicken-shit coward with a martyr complex, but that didn't mean his couldn't cause harm. Bobby lit a cigarette and dialed his phone as he headed toward the old cemetery between Adele's home and the one Compton was renting.

"Agent Fletcher," a gruff voice answered.

"This is Bobby Burnham."

"Yeah—I remember," Travis Fletcher said, his voice more relaxed. "Dan Groves put you in touch with me. You called a few days ago—asking for some advice on good private security firms in the area. You get all set up?"

"Yes. Thanks," Bobby said. "But I may need your help again."

"Well—Dan vouched for you, and I owe him more than one, so anything you need," the FBI agent paused, "within reason. What _exactly_ do you need?"

"Maybe nothing. But, then again, there might be a potential problem with someone in your line of work."

"Really—a fed? Who?"

"Bill Compton, though I think his full name is William."

"Ah—Billy boy," Agent Fletcher said with a chuckle. "What'd that paper-pusher do this time? Trip over his own goddamned ego and tell you it was his dick?"

"So you know him," Bobby deadpanned.

"Sadly," Agent Fletcher returned. "He once worked out of the Shreveport office for about a month. What was it? Two or three years back? He rubbed everyone here the wrong way. Thought he was better than us field agents 'cause he was a recruiter."

"Yeah—well his project back then was to recruit a friend of mine—a friend whom he tried to recruit via seduction from what I've gathered."

"Fuckin' Bureau," Agent Fletcher cursed with disgust. "It's like my goddamned mother-in-law!"

"Huh?" Bobby asked, stumped by Agent Fletcher's comparison.

"Oh—I love the bitch," the agent continued as if he'd not heard Bobby's sound of confusion. "And don't get me wrong. I know people who have much worse in-laws than I have. But every once in a while, the woman does something that makes me wonder why I ever _voluntarily_ joined the family!"

Catching onto the comparison, Bobby chuckled. "Yeah. I imagine that lines get blurred in your line of work."

"Yeah. I pretty much live in the grey zone, but there are some things that shouldn't be done—though I'm not surprised that Billy boy's up to his tight ass in questionable shit. I'm sorry your friend was his target." He paused. "So—what do you need from me?"

"A safety net," Bobby said. "Tonight Bill tried to worm his way back into my friend's life through manipulation and lies. Her fiancé put him into his place by throwing him against a wall."

Agent Fletcher laughed out loud. "And Billy boy's just the kind of pussy who might try to use that incident to make trouble for your friends."

"Yeah. It's possible that Bill might do himself damage—try to make it look like my friend and I roughed him up. And there are other types of damage he could do too."

"Tell me what else we might be dealing with," Agent Fletcher requested.

Bobby lit another cigarette and did just that.

* * *

_**Fifteen Minutes Earlier** _

"Are you okay?" Eric asked as soon as Bill and Bobby were out the door?

"Yeah," Sookie responded, her voice conveying a little surprise. "I am—actually." She looked at Eric seriously. "I should have told you everything about Bill. I don't know why I didn't."  
"I know why," Eric said quietly, taking Sookie's hand in order to show her that he wasn't upset in any way.

"Why?" she asked curiously.

"At first, it probably seemed like it was too soon to tell me, and then it probably seemed like it didn't matter."

Sookie nodded. "Yeah."

"He was what drove you to New York—right?" Eric asked.

"Yeah. But not for the reason you might think. What he did hurt me, and all the progress I'd made in college seemed like it was gone in an instant. But what scared me the most was that I almost took him back—even after learning that he'd been sent by the FBI to procure me for my lip-reading ability through any means he felt necessary."

"Through seduction," Eric ascertained.

Sookie nodded. "I was easy pickings then. I wouldn't be now, but I was then."

"Would you ever consider that? Using your ability to help the government or something like that?"

Sookie shook her head. "I wouldn't want others' fates lying in my hands—not like that."

"But you told me about de Castro and Madden."

"It's different with you," she whispered. "It always has been. I'd do anything to protect you, and I felt that way from the start."

"Thank you," Eric said running the backs of his fingers along her cheekbones. "And I'm honored."

They were quiet for a few moments.

"I would never want to be exploited like Bill and the FBI planned to use me," Sookie sighed. "And I'm definitely not cut out to be some kind of spy or something. After the thing with Bill, I read all I could about how lip readers have been useful to the government, but—in every one of those cases—they _chose_ that work. It's not something I would choose."

He pulled her into his embrace. "Are you okay—after tonight? After everything?"

"Surprisingly, Bill's being here didn't bother me. And learning that my mother was the reason the FBI knew about me shouldn't have surprised me—or hurt me."

"But it did?"

She sighed. "Yes. A little. I just wish that I could feel as indifferent toward her as I do toward Bill."

Eric kissed her forehead, and neither of them spoke for a while, content just to sway gently in each other's arms. Both of them understood just how difficult it was to feel indifference for an abusive parent.

"They asked me—you know," she finally said.

"Who asked? What?"

"I got a visit from someone named Nan Flanagan during my senior year at Ole Miss. She said that she was recruiting for the FBI; she said that she'd found out about my lip-reading ability from one of my classmates, but I'd never told any of them, so that didn't make any sense. But I figured that someone had figured it out."

"You turned her down," Eric stated.

Sookie nodded. "I told her the same thing I told you: that I didn't want to be responsible for anyone else's fate." Sookie laughed ruefully. "At the time, I wasn't even sure I could be responsible for my own fate. I think that's one of the things that bothered me so much after I found out about Bill. I turned them down, but they still tried to manipulate me. After that, I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to trust anyone who came into my life." She looked up at him. "But I was wrong about that."

"Your trust means everything to me, Sookie," Eric said.

"And your love means everything to me."

"I wish I weren't afraid to tell you out loud," he said in an agonized voice. "You deserve to hear it."

"Maybe. But I don't _need_ to hear it, Eric," she said, even as she pulled him to her and kissed him gently. "Besides, _feeling_ is so much more important than hearing," she added, speaking in a whisper against his lips. "Take it from me. I know both ways."

Eric took her chin in his hands and kissed her again—passionately. They were both breathless when he pulled away.

Immediately, he took out his phone and sent a text.

"What are you doing?" Sookie asked once she'd caught her breath.

"Telling Bobby to take his time coming back," he said, looking at her with lust in his eyes.

She giggled. "Tell him I want an hour."

He chuckled. "Just an hour?"

"Okay—tell him ninety minutes."

* * *

**A/N: Hello all. Thanks for the wonderful reviews for the last chapter! They were such a treat during my grading breaks (in fact, when I saw a new one, it was an ****excuse**** for a grading break, so double thanks). **

**I'll try my best to get you at least one more this week, but—be warned—in addition to grading, I've also started the next story in the **_**Gift Horse**_** series, though I'm not very far along. So that story will be taking some of my time from editing, especially this weekend. **

**Up next in this story? What other unexpected visitors show up? And who will volunteer to give Bobby his New Year's kiss? **

**Until then,**

**Kat **


	16. Chapter 16: More Visitors

**Chapter 16: More Visitors **

Bobby groaned. "Fucking Boardwalk? Again? Geez, Northman. Remind me to never play _Monopoly_ with you again."

"Hey—I like this game," Eric pronounced as Bobby handed him the remainder of his money and determined that he didn't have enough properties to mortgage in order to pay the rest of his "rent."

Sookie giggled. She'd been put out of the game by Eric fifteen minutes before. She kissed Bobby's cheek and then walked over to Eric to give him a peck on the lips. "My business mogul strikes again."

Eric chuckled and pulled her onto his lap. "Yep."

Bobby shook his head and took a drink of his beer. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was about half an hour until midnight. His phone beeped with a text.

"There are two people wanting to visit you, Sookie," Bobby said after reading the text. "The guard stopped them up by the road."

Following the Bill situation, Bobby had assigned one of the guards to stay close to the house, while the other was sent back to keep watch at the end of Sookie's long driveway.

"Who is it?" Sookie asked, praying that it wasn't her brother and mother.

"The names given were Lafayette Reynolds and Tara Thornton," Bobby said reading his phone.

"Really? I didn't think they were coming until Thursday—for the funeral," Sookie said, sitting up excitedly on Eric's lap.

Bobby smiled. "I assume that your expression indicates that they're welcome."

Sookie nodded enthusiastically as Bobby stood up and called the guard.

Eric smiled at Sookie. She had told him quite a bit about Lafayette. Though Lafayette was a few years older than Sookie, they had become friends during her senior year of high school. And—because of encouragement from Claudine—Sookie had been keeping in more constant contact with her old friend. Eric had heard Sookie's end of several phone calls to Lafayette during their time living together. Sookie was often left giggling by whatever Lafayette said, and she was always happier after the calls.

Therefore, Eric was already predisposed to like Lafayette.

Tara, however, was different story altogether. Sookie had told Eric about her first "friend" one evening not long after they'd moved in together. To Eric, Tara had behaved selfishly when she and Sookie were children. By contrast, Sookie had stood up for the girl, even though it meant more ridicule for herself. But Tara had never really "owned" her friendship with Sookie—at least, not until Sookie's hearing problem had been surgically corrected so that Sookie could be a "normal" friend. But—worst of all—Tara had cut ties with Sookie when she tried to warn her about something disturbing she'd "heard" from the lips of the guy Tara had been dating.

However—despite their problematic history—Sookie had wanted to try to reestablish contact with Tara, and she'd exchanged a couple of phone calls with her since the summer. Those calls usually elicited nervousness from Sookie.

And—_that_—Eric didn't like.

Nonetheless, Eric knew that Sookie valued her earliest friends, and—to their credit—they'd both contacted her when they'd learned of Gran's death. And, though Tara now lived in New Orleans and Lafayette lived in Los Angeles, they'd both wanted to be there for Gran's funeral—and for Sookie.

A loud knock interrupted Eric's musing as Sookie jumped off of his lap and ran to the door. Bobby and Eric followed her at a distance so that she could greet her friends. Almost as soon as Sookie had opened the door, a stocky and flamboyantly dressed African American man had her wrapped up in his arms.

"Baby girl!" Lafayette cried out as he spun her around. "You is a sight for sore eyes!"

"So are you!" Sookie said with a big smile on her face. "Hey, Tara," she said to the attractive African American woman who trailed Lafayette into the house.

"Hey, Sook," Tara responded, somewhat timidly before stepping forward to give her a hug too. As soon as the hug started, Tara began sniffling. "I'm so sorry about Gran. And I'm _so_ sorry about the way I treated you the last time we were together. I'm sorry about a lot of things, Sook," she said sadly.

"It's okay," Sookie said, patting her friend's back a little awkwardly. "I'm just glad you're here now." She broke the hug and smiled at Tara.

"Oh my dear Lord in Heaven, Sook!" Lafayette exclaimed, breaking up the women's emotional reunion. "Tell me that the blond God in the dining room is a late Christmas present for yours truly!"

"Sorry, Lala," Sookie giggled, "that's Eric, the guy I told you about. _My_ guy," she smiled at Eric.

"This is the man you's shackin' up with?" he asked. "Missy, you's didn't tell me he was the reincarnation of Thor!"

Eric approached the group and held out his hand to Lafayette. The leather and lace clad man placed his hand daintily into Eric's.

"Nice to finally meet you, Lafayette," Eric said with a grin on his face. "But try to keep it under wraps that I'm Thor—okay? Secret identity and all."

Lafayette raked his eyes up and down Eric, who had put on only flannel sleep pants and a gray tank-top after he and Sookie had made love.

"You's can call me Lala."

"Thanks Lala. Call me Eric."

"You's one lucky son of a bitch to gets Sookie here, but if she ever leaves yo' pretty ass and you's needs a little comfortin', you come and finds me, sweetheart."

Eric chuckled and winked at Lafayette, who quickly turned his attention to Bobby. "Is this one yours too, hooker?" Lafayette asked even as he appraised Bobby.

"Nope," Sookie giggled.

"I guess he'll have to do for my New Year's kiss then," Lafayette leered.

Bobby smirked. "The person I kissed last year was wearing a bustier and bright red lipstick too," he deadpanned.

Lafayette laughed. "Oh we's gonna get along just fine!"

* * *

"Sookie's different," a much more serious Lafayette said as he flipped a pancake. Along with Tara, he had spent the night in the guest room after the New Year had been greeted with much liquor, laughter, and tears as stories about Gran had been remembered. Bobby was snoring away on the couch.

"I could tell from the moment she answered the door," Lafayette went on. "Hell—I could tell when we talked on the phone these last several months."

"Yes, she is different," Eric agreed as he took a cup down from the cabinet and poured himself some coffee. He'd left Sookie still asleep when he'd risen early. He'd been surprised to find that Lafayette was not only awake, but also functional. Bobby and Lafayette had found and polished off a bottle of Kentucky bourbon the night before—a big bottle.

Lafayette added two newly-cooked pancakes to a plate that already held quite a few before turning to look at Eric. The only evidence that he had a hangover was the sunglasses he wore.

"Did Sookie ever tell you how she and I met?" Lafayette asked Eric.

Eric shook his head. "No."

"As you know, Tara's my cousin, but we weren't particularly close as kids since I was five years older than her. But once Tara was in junior high and I got my own place, she'd come crash with me when things got particularly bad with her mother. Ya see, Tara's mom liked to drink—a lot—and when she did, she got meaner than a hornet."

Eric nodded. "Sookie told me that."

"My own mom is in the loony bin, though they call it an assisted living facility," Lafayette shared. "Ya see—she's bipolar, and she's never been particularly fond of taking her meds. Sookie saw my mom talkin' to herself outside of the grocery store one day. Most people didn't pay her no mind since she was always mumblin' away when she was off of her meds. But Sookie figured out that she was plannin' to burn down her house that night. Instead of ignorin' my mom's bat-shit craziness—like everyone else did—Sookie told Tara, who called me. When I got to my mom's house, I found mason jars full of gasoline and kerosene everywhere." He shook his head. "She'd apparently been plannin' it for a while. 'Cause of Sook, my mom's still alive, and even though she's in a mental institute, she's probably happier there than she's ever been before—since they keep her on the meds fulltime." Lafayette sighed. "She even has a job through the internet now, and she's got friends where she lives."

Eric smiled and spoke with obvious pride. "So Sookie saved your mom's life."

Lafayette nodded. "Yeah. That's how I met her. It always broke my heart to see how closed off Sook was from the world. She hardly smiled and never laughed. Hell—she didn't really even talk much—not even after she could hear. She would just listen as Tara and me squabbled or went on 'bout somethin' dumb." He smiled. "But now she's," he paused, "like a flower—a goddamned bloomin' flower. I 'spected to come here and find her in pieces because of Gran, but she's not in pieces. And that's 'cause of you."

Eric shook his head. "No. It's mostly because of _her_—her strength. When we got together, I was the one in pieces; she was already starting to put herself together."

"Tell me there's coffee," Bobby interrupted, as he dragged himself into the kitchen. He was only in boxers and scratched himself all the way to the coffee maker.

"Need help with that?" Lafayette leered as Eric poured Bobby a cup of coffee—mostly because he didn't want Bobby touching the pot.

Bobby looked down at himself and realized that he was still scratching his balls—through the thin cloth of his boxers. "Oh," he said, shaking his head a bit. "Sorry. I think I'm still asleep or drunk or both."

Eric chuckled. "Just put on some clothes before Sookie gets up—okay?"

"From where I'm standin', he's still wearin' one thing too many," Lafayette said. "And I never did get my New Year's kiss."

"Not from lack of trying," Bobby intoned.

"I had to try," Lafayette winked. "Lots of _supposedly_ straight boys change their tune once they've had an adequate amount of liquor." He sighed. "It's a shame you weren't one of 'em."

Bobby chuckled and then went to put on some more clothes.

Lafayette's eyes trailed him. "A damn shame!"

Eric just laughed and then took a sip of coffee. He liked Lafayette very much, but he still wasn't certain about Tara. As Lafayette and Bobby had been polishing off the bourbon, Sookie and Tara had talked. Eric had given the women some privacy for their conversation, but he couldn't keep himself from glancing over at Sookie every once in a while. And he couldn't help but to notice that she was nervous around Tara—just as she was nervous around people that she didn't really know or trust.

Bobby walked back into the room—pants and shirt on, but not buttoned. He was holding his phone in his hand.

"Jason and Michelle Stackhouse have been detained by the guard at the end of the road. They won't leave. Do you want me to call Sheriff Bellefleur?"

"No," Sookie's voice came from behind Bobby. "I want to talk to them."

Everyone in the room looked at Sookie in surprise.

"Sookie?" Eric asked.

"I _need_ to talk to them," she amended her previous statement. "I need to do it for _me_. Then—if they don't go away—we can call Andy."

Eric set his coffee down on the counter and went over to her.

"You're sure?"

"Yes. But that doesn't mean that I need to do it alone," she said, looking up at him.

Eric looked immediately relieved. "No—you don't." He glanced at Bobby. "Tell the guard to let them come up."

Bobby sent a text and then finished buttoning his shirt. "Mind if I stick around too?" he asked.

"And I ain't goin' nowhere either, baby doll," Lafayette piped in.

"Thanks," Sookie said looking around at the men in the room with tears in her eyes. "Where's Tara?"

"Still sleepin'," Lafayette reported. "If I knows her, she won't be up till at least noon."

Sookie let out a deep breath as a car was heard pulling up.

"If it becomes too much and you want them gone, all you have to do is tell me," Eric said.

Sookie gave him a little smile and then looked at Bobby. "Bring them into the living room when they get here?" she asked.

"No problem," Bobby responded.

"And let's _not_ offer them drinks," Sookie said with a hint of a smirk.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry that I didn't get you this update sooner, but I got "trapped" writing other things. I hope that you will check them out if you haven't already. I wrote a one-shot called "Enduring" after the final SVM book came out. At the time, I also began drafting a companion piece, but it fizzled out. Anyway, I got "re-excited" about the story and spent the last week working on the companion piece and a resolution. I turned it all into a three-story series. I hope that you will check it out if you haven't already. It goes in this order: 1.) "Enduring" 2.) "Uncovering" 3.) "Resolving." **

**Okay—now that I've made that shameless plug, I have to tell you all how much I appreciate your continued support of **_**Touch the Flame**_**. I really wanted to get you this chapter before I moved back to **_**Uninvited**_** for its week, so my weeks are now off a bit. I'll resume working on this one next Saturday.**

_**Next up:**_** What I've been waiting to do for a long time: put Sookie into a more-less private setting with Michelle. Things need to be said. **

**Until then,**

**Kat**


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